


tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow

by flusteredkeith



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Edge of Tomorrow AU, HELLA pining keith, M/M, Military Science Fiction, Pining Keith (Voltron), SHEITH - Freeform, Time Loop, military sci-fi meets groundhog's day and 50 first dates, minor blood/gore mentions, non permanent character deaths, sci-fi groundhog day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-09 21:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 36,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11677323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flusteredkeith/pseuds/flusteredkeith
Summary: Drafted to fight the alien invaders ravaging Earth, Keith is immediately dropped into a brutal bloodbath of a battle and is killed within minutes.And then he wakes up.Stuck in an everlasting time loop that forces him to relive the same day over and over again, Keith slowly improves his skill on the battlefield and grows closer to Shiro, his trusted comrade in arms.But with each repeated day, Keith begins to wonder: will the day ever come when they finally defeat the Galra once and for all?





	1. you only die once

**Author's Note:**

> HEY GUYS, MY BIG BANG PIECE IS FINALLY HERE!!! It's my first time ever writing a huge multichapter thing and actually finishing it so I'm a little nervous but also very excited! Special thanks to [@midlangley](http://midlangley.tumblr.com/post/163924048727/for-flusteredkeith-my-awesome-partner-for-the) who did the accompanying art and [@chew-ie](https://chew-ie.tumblr.com/) and [@amusingmurff](https://amusingmurff.tumblr.com/) who helped me beta!
> 
> I also have to thank [rhapsodyinpink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhapsodyinpink), [ErinNovelist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinNovelist/pseuds/ErinNovelist), [vldrarepairs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraculousstorytelling/pseuds/vldrarepairs), and so many others for walking alongside my whole process over the last few months (sob). I seriously couldn't have accomplished this without all of you.
> 
> And without further ado, hope y'all enjoy! :)

Fear. Panic. Death.

They were all Keith could see. From the moment his feet touched the ground, soldiers yelled and screamed as missiles and javelins rained down upon them. Bullets flew by him at the speed of light, pounding out a row of _thack thack thack’s_ in rapid succession. Bomb shells exploded, splattering dirt and mud every few meters.

Sagami Bay was unrecognizable. What used to be beautiful shores and smooth, white sand were now covered with ash, corpses, and blood. Smoke and gunpowder obscured the iconic view of Mt. Fuji and the deep blue of the ocean was stained with red.

Sent as reinforcements, Keith and his platoon were supposed to ambush the enemy's right flank from the rear — but before they could fully step off the dropship, their entire unit discovered at once that they had been dropped straight into the heat of battle, without a single chance to breathe.

It was Keith's first time on this beach, but given the overwhelming attack that met him, he wouldn’t be surprised if it would also be his last.

"Look out!" a teammate yelled from behind him. Keith dove for the ground at once, taking cover. His face paled when he looked up. A soldier he didn't recognize lay motionless in the dirt, a red-splattered tip of a Robeast's javelin sticking out of his back. Before Keith could fully register what had just happened, he was being pulled back up to his feet.

“We need to move!" shouted a voice next to him. It was his squadron leader, Sergeant Iverson, followed by a few other soldiers in his platoon. All new recruits. All with terror etched into their faces.

Struggling to keep himself upright, Keith dragged himself forward. His breathing was sharp and ragged from the pressure of the powersuit weighing down on him. Made of Japanese composite armor plating, the suits were designed to latch on tightly to their bodies until it essentially fused with their skin. Keith, however, was still unaccustomed to the extra weight, and therefore trudged along uncomfortably with every step he took, doing whatever he could to avoid getting killed.

"This is insane!" one of his teammates Lance cried out as they continued to charge through the crossfire. "They're crushing us!"

“Fire in the hole!” a random soldier shouted from up ahead. Keith and his core group from their platoon stopped in their tracks to take cover behind a giant truck. Keith felt the ground shake beneath them as the grenade found its mark.

Just then, something shifted in the dirt beside Keith. Without sparing another thought, he aimed the rifle attached to his suit’s right arm and shot at the ground in a panicked frenzy. It was difficult to know when and where exactly he needed to shoot but he refused to stop shooting until he was sure the creature was slain.

"Save your bullets!" Lance yelled, stopping in his tracks to take aim with the rocket launcher on his left arm. Keith took his finger off the trigger and stumbled backward, watching the dirt settle around them. They waited.

Then, in one swift motion, a dark purple creature burst forth from the ground, its four limbs spread out and ready to attack. With a single shot, his teammate launched a missile, sending the alien soaring backwards as it blasted into pieces.

"Just remember you only have two shots left on that thing," Keith reminded him. He had dropped and lost his rocket launcher upon landing on the beach so having even two missiles was a luxury he didn’t have.

"A simple thank you would have sufficed!" Lance shouted, but Keith had already moved on to look for his next target.

Bred from Galra, the alien Robeasts looked like a cross between a giant spider and a bloated amphibian. They fired javelins from mysterious vents in their bodies and their limbs were giant bundles of thin vine-like tentacles that could strike with the force of a battle axe. They fought like machines. Not only were they relentless in battle, but they had a metallic quality to them, despite having base elements of a living and bleeding organism. Now that Keith could see them move and slink across the sand, he thought he understood. It was almost like he could hear the whir of mechanical gears winding themselves out in every movement they made. Even with composite armored suits to give soldiers extra strength, they could barely stand a chance against these powerful creatures.

They were severely outnumbered. Humanity’s hope for survival was growing thin.

"How is this happening?" Lance yelped as he shot down a Robeast from a distance. "I thought we were supposed to take them by surprise! Hunk — cover me!"

“I know!” Hunk shouted back as he popped out an old magazine and plugged in a new one. “I got your back!”

“I don’t know how but it definitely feels like they knew we were coming!” responded Pidge.

“Five hundred meters and they’re closing in fast!” Allura yelled, turning to face a fresh new Robeast. She shot it down with a few bullets, then fired an extra round with her shoulder cannon for good measure.

“Nice one, Allura,” Lance said, grinning in spite of the shitstorm flying around them. But as he stopped to flash his white teeth at them all, a Robeast was creeping slowly up onto a fallen dropship right behind him.

"Lance!" Hunk yelled as a javelin came flying out of the Robeast’s vent. Lance whipped around at once, but it was too late. With a sharp intake of breath, he fell to his knees.

"Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” Hunk said, running up to catch him by the shoulders as Allura turned her rifle onto the Robeast at once. It swerved and spun along the edge of the dropship, dodging each bullet. “This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't—"

_Boom._

A grenade aimed for the Robeast exploded, causing the entire dropship to blow up. Keith ducked behind another fallen aircraft, afraid to open his eyes and see the aftermath.

He knew without looking that they were all dead; he was the only one of his main platoon left alive. But like Iverson said, he had to keep moving.

 _Become the Jacket,_ Keith told himself as he picked himself back up and hurried ahead as fast as he could. His lungs were heaving with the poisonous fumes of gunpowder and alien carcasses. He could hardly see where he was going with the smoke in his eyes. Establishing a steady pace for himself, he kept his finger on the trigger, ready to shoot at the slightest sign of movement from the enemy.

This battle was doomed. Soldiers and squadron leaders were collapsing left and right in his line of sight. Sergeant Iverson was down. Most of their entire unit was down. Yells and screams of profanity filled the air along with gunshots and explosions. The stench of the battlefield grew with the smell of Robeast corpses and human blood. Sagami Bay had turned into a slaughterhouse. There was no way they were making out of this alive.

_Boom._

A bomb exploded somewhere off to his right. With a yell of surprise, Keith fell forward from the force of the distant blast, toppling chin-first into the mud. Spitting dirt from his mouth, he pushed himself up with his arms and, with great effort, shifted his knees to better support the combined weight of himself and the Jacket.

He could barely feel his legs. Palms clammy with sweat inside his gloves, he gripped the trigger and made to get back on his feet.

But right as he pulled himself up off the ground, a set of limbs emerged from the cloud of dust before him, writhing and twisting as it dislodged itself out of the dirt.

Jumping back with a shout, Keith lifted his arm and began shooting at it, splaying sand and mud up all around as the alien surfaced. It veered left and swiveled away, evading his bullets with little effort.

His magazine clicked empty and he took a few steps back as the Robeast began to crawl toward him.

One of the Robeast's arms swung out and caught him by the stomach, knocking the air out of Keith's lungs. The blow sent him flying backwards until he landed on his back. Screaming in pain, he tasted blood in his mouth. His head-up display flashed with red warnings as a dark figure loomed large before him, its shape warped from the dented helmet.

He was going to die. Even if the Robeast didn't end him now, he was certain the hit he took had crushed all the ribs in his body and possibly ruptured his lungs.

Within seconds, the creature had caught up to him, raising a limb to go in for the kill.

Shutting his eyes, Keith braced himself for the last strike. He thought about his life, of his dad going off to war, of his mother dying from grief, of growing up in the orphanage, of his determination to make it out alone. Sifting through the events as it flashed by, he alighted upon the memory of his first time riding a motorcycle and lingered there. After all, if this was going to be his final moment, he'd prefer his mind to leave the battlefield and settle on happier things.

Keith heard death in the swing of a battle axe — a loud _thunk_ and the sound of metal screeching — but the ultimate pain never came.

His eyes shot open. The Robeast's corpse was flying through the air.

With a huge amount of effort, he pushed himself up onto his side and leaned against a pile of dead soldiers. The warning signals on his display were still flashing so he reached up and pulled his helmet off. Squinting through the smoke and rising dust, he saw a familiar figure up ahead, still in the heat of action.

It didn't take long for Keith to guess who he was.

They called him the Champion of Sakai. Tall, handsome, and armed with a battle axe, Keith recognized him as the one who gazed out from the face of every building in Tokyo with the words "Sergeant Shirogane" stamped in big letters across his chest. It was the face that greeted Keith from above Shibuya station when he first arrived in the city after being drafted on his eighteenth birthday. He could see the giant poster in his mind's eye: a calm expression, a shock of white hair, and his signature axe in the shape of a long bladed paddle resting over his shoulder. Clad in black armor and handling a battle axe with a prosthetic arm: the Champion himself, in the flesh.

Rumors had it that half the Robeast kills the world ever made could be credited to the Champion and his Special Forces squad. The victory at Sakai was all thanks to him. Undefeated and ruthless, it was said that he was filled with bloodlust and an unquenchable thirst for killing. Sometimes Keith wondered if the stories were even true. In times of war such as this, everyone wanted — no, _needed_ — to cling on to any semblance of hope, even though he was sure it didn't exist anymore. But as he continued to stare at the Champion, swinging his axe deftly and spinning out to meet each Robeast, Keith had to admit that maybe, just maybe, this guy could make him believe in hope, too.

Watching him fight was mesmerizing. More Robeasts had arrived; the Champion moved with them seamlessly as though he was one of their kind. As far as Keith knew, the guy had only been drafted three years ago. How had he become an expert so fast? Even most of the weathered squadron leaders Keith had seen couldn't hold a candle to him. He lunged himself at each Robeast, twisting through the air only to sink his axe into their flesh.

How was this guy even real?

There were several moments when Keith wanted to shout "Look out!" but Sergeant Shirogane was quicker. Even when surrounded by aliens from all sides, he knew exactly where to hit and where to turn. He matched the Robeasts in ruthlessness and speed, never showing any signs of tiring out.

But humans could only run so far and the onslaught of the monstrous army wasn't about to stop anytime soon. The Robeasts were prepared somehow, and Sergeant Shirogane was only one person.

And then, it happened. With a swing and a hit, the Champion flew backwards and landed hard on his back, his axe falling a few meters away from him. Apparently, going up against thirteen Robeasts was his limit. As he was the most skilled fighter on the beach, the aliens must have caught on that this was the target they needed to get rid of first.

Still in pain from the blow of the last Robeast, Keith fumbled desperately to eject the old magazine, determined to help in any way he could. He slammed the now-empty bullet chamber across the magazine cache attached to his thigh, then jerked his arm to the left, locking the clip in place. Taking aim from his reclined position on the ground, he fired at the beasts in continuous rounds.

Keith knew from the start that it wasn't going to be enough, but he didn't care. It was better than sitting around and watching him die.

Three Robeasts keeled over. Another two turned around and began making their way towards Keith instead. But despite what was going to happen, he kept his finger on the trigger. He just needed to hold them off long enough for the Champion to get back on his feet.

_Come on…_

The rifle clicked empty. Reaching out for a reload, Keith paled. He was completely out. With his rocket launcher lost, he only had his shoulder cannons to rely on now.

Raising the cannons, he began to fire away. It occurred to him then as he watched the Champion pick his axe back up that Sergeant Shirogane never carried a rocket launcher, or wore a helmet. Seeing as how the guy allegedly led them to victory against the Robeasts at Sakai, Keith wondered about these specific choices. They had to have worked for the Champion for a reason.

Right as Keith's shoulder cannons emptied out, the Champion hacked down the last remaining Robeast. Keith watched him lean against a fallen dropship for a short breather. Still catching his own breath, Keith simply let himself feel relief that they had both made it out of the small skirmish alive.

The battlefield was still swarming with monsters. As skilled of a warrior as Sergeant Shirogane was, Keith had little hope that any of them would manage to make it off this beach alive.

It was on this despairing thought that he heard it. High-pitched ringing pierced his ears and with it, the smell of gas — which, when picked up on the scene of a battlefield, he came to associate with —

"No!" Keith cried out, but it was too late. Shutting his eyes, he ducked behind a mountain of corpses right as the dropship the Champion was standing by exploded. Mud and dirt rained down on him as he felt the earth beneath him shake. He didn't need to look to know the aftermath.

Something sunk low inside his chest, a feeling heavier than the composite suit weighing down on his back. Keith felt robbed — of what, he didn't know. But somehow, despite not knowing the guy personally, he felt a deep sense of loss.

He couldn't ever remember feeling this way before. He was too young when his parents both died, and ever since he arrived at the orphanage, he never had anything to lose.

 _But I don't know him_ , Keith thought, the fire from the explosion dancing in his eyes. Sergeant Shirogane was just the military poster boy, but he was clearly the best soldier they'd ever had. Perhaps that was it. The more he considered the matter, the more he realized what it all meant. Without Sergeant Shirogane, hope for humanity was lost.

Keith turned away from the flames and clutched his wounded side. At least he had tried his best to save him. But, no point dwelling on it now. He had to keep moving.

As he pushed himself up into a seated position, pain seized his stomach. Teeth clenched, he tried to shake it off. It was proof that he wasn't dead yet. As long as he was still alive, he owed it to humanity to fight on. If he was going to die soon, he might as well die fighting.

Just then, something moved in the corner of Keith's eye and he sprung backwards at once. Tips of tentacles were surfacing from the dirt. Remembering he had no reloads left, he ransacked the pile of corpses beside him. His muscles screamed in protest at the sudden twist in position but he gritted his teeth and ignored it.

_Come on, come on…_

A rifle was lying in the sand about five meters away. Heart racing, he began crawling towards it, focusing his sights on the weapon until he had his hands on it.

He was just a little more than an arm's reach away from the gun when he heard a low rumble behind him, too close for comfort. A dark shadow loomed large over him — an ominous silhouette of a round misshapen creature. He saw it raise its limb and whipped around to face it.

As he did so, something miraculous happened. Perhaps the proximity to death had sparked something in his brain, but all of his senses snapped into razor-sharp focus and he suddenly knew in his gut what he had to do.

In the split second that he stared up at the creature, he knew something was different. Although the alien looked about the same as the rest of its kind, this Robeast was not like the others.

But he didn't have time to analyze. Its arm was coming down on him fast. Without another thought, he reached over, grabbed the rifle, and pointed it straight at where the beast's heart should've been.

_Bang._

The Robeast staggered backwards, but didn't fall. Black sand poured out of its wound.

_Bang._

Drops of violet liquid splattered onto his face, leaking from the creature like blood.

It raised its limb again. Aligning the rifle straight at its mouth, Keith took aim as the Robeast's  arm swung down on him again.

_Bang._

One last shot. Then he blacked out.

—

His left hand was wrapped around the hilt of his knife, his cheeks pressed against the rough fabric of the pillow beneath him. Blinking awake in the dinginess of his room, Keith dimly registered the sound of classical music playing softly from somewhere above him. Tightening the grip on his dagger, he traced a familiar path along the handle of his earliest possession.

The classical music grew sharper as his surroundings slowly came into focus. It was an annoying habit of his bunkmate to set an alarm to a music channel on the radio, and then to not wake up for another thirty minutes. And even when he did, he often let the radio play on until they all had to suit up for physical training.

The panic and fear he had previously experienced was fading into the distance. With a deep breath, Keith turned over onto his back, trying to remember why he had felt that way. It took a few seconds for the memories to settle in.

_The beach, the Robeasts, the Champion…_

Suddenly alert, Keith sat up in bed with his hand on his stomach, trailing his fingers over the bare skin under his shirt. It was intact. Undamaged. Whole. He released his breath and sunk back into his mattress, clapping his forehead in relief.

_What a crazy nightmare…_

He brought his hand back to his stomach. He still couldn't shake how real the sensations had felt — the pain in his abdomen, the bruise on his back, the numbness in his legs, and how it had crippled him. Propping his feet up on the bars of his bunk, he wiggled his toes to check the feeling in his limbs. All fine. All working. Lifting his hand before him, he flexed his fingers. In a few hours, they would be stroking the cool metal trigger of a gun.

The sound of papers rifling reached Keith's ears, making him realize that his bunkmate had been awake this whole time. _Lance_ , he thinks, who had died. They had all died. Hunk, who was still snoring quietly in the bed perpendicular to him, "Pidge" (a nickname Lance had once bestowed upon Katie), who slept in the bunk above his, and then Allura — the most recent transfer from the British Forces — who had her own cot across from his.

_A hyper-realistic death experience…_

_But it wasn't real_ , he reminded himself. Despite how alive he felt this morning, there was still a disconnect somewhere in his brain. Holding his dagger in front of him, he ran an index finger along the blade. The metal felt cold and smooth against his skin. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. All five of his senses were currently telling him that his waking experience now wasn't fake. And yet, everything that had transpired on the beach — the explosions, the sheer multitude of Robeasts, his stomach bleeding out profusely — had all felt just as real. But he was alive and well and…

He heard the mattress above him creak and stowed his knife away from sight. Lance poked his head around to look at him. He looked great for someone who, when Keith had last seen him, had a javelin through his chest.

"Hey, sign this," he said, handing a piece of paper down towards him.

"Uh, what is it?" Keith asked, sparing it one brief glance.

"The confession, mullet man," he replied. Keith pursed his lips in distaste at the nickname.

"Confession?"

"Yeah, I told you about it yesterday, remember? About the booze?"

Keith thought back. It was a common tradition to drink and party it up the night before an operation, but because the base would eventually take inventory of the stock, soldiers didn’t want to get in trouble for stealing liquor. If someone was caught after the battle was over, they would have to deal with the disciplinary committee or a court martial. If this happened, they all agreed to pull out a confession from someone who had died in battle, so that everyone else would get off. Lance had volunteered to draft the note.

"Oh, that." Keith sat up and made to take the piece of paper from Lance when his hand stopped in midair. "Wait. I thought I signed it already."

"Did you?" He heard Lance rifling through some papers above. "That's weird. I don't see it. Can you sign it again?"

"What're you trying to pull?" Keith asked skeptically.

"Hey, man. You already agreed to sign it," he said. "I'm just following up."

"I'm pretty sure I signed one already," Keith maintained.

"Well, I don't see it, so just sign it again, will you?" Lance pressed, dropping the sheet of paper onto Keith's head where it then slipped down into his lap. "Besides, if you do end up dying, you only die once, so what does it matter how many times you sign?"

"Fine," Keith grumbled, taking the paper from him and scribbling a messy signature with a pen from his bedside table. His interest in the matter was very low anyways.

"There," he said, handing it back to Lance. "Happy?"

" _Gracias, mi amigo,_ " he responded brightly. Too brightly. Keith raised an eyebrow as he listened to Lance hum along with the radio, fully immersed in organizing the confession letters. For a morning that would lead to pain and possible death, Lance was surprisingly chirpy, especially considering how much he had drunk at the party last night. Keith, who had gotten bored of the proceedings and turned in early, remembered being woken up in the middle of the night to help Hunk haul Lance back into bed.

"You know, I'm surprised you're not hungover right now," Keith said.

"What do you mean?" Lance asked. "I know I'm a fun guy, but I don't pregame that early."

"What are you talking about? You came back so drunk you couldn't get into bed."

"What are _you_ talking about?" Lance poked his head back over the bunk to stare down at Keith. "You were there. Well, kind of, since you left early and didn't really help out all that much. Allura had to help with some heavy lifting thanks to your unreliable ass."

"Heavy lifting?"

"But seriously man," Lance plowed on, having not heard him. "You were there. I didn't drink a single drop. All the booze is still intact and ready for the party tonight."

"But you — what?" Keith paused at the end of Lance's sentence, trying to match the information his bunkmate had just presented and what he knew. "The party’s tonight? But the battle's today… unless they postponed it?"

"What? What're you—"

The perplexed look on Lance's face gave away to suspicion. "Are you sure _you're_ not the one hungover? Did you sneak in a little booze without us? Is that why you left early? Pretend you went to bed?"

"What? No! I just—"

Keith broke off. His head was starting to hurt. He was sure they had raided the liquor two nights ago, then had their party last night. Unless that was part of his dream, too. Pinching his temple with his fingers, he tried to reconcile the two differing accounts.

"Okay, so. Let me get this straight. The party’s tonight, and the battle's tomorrow?" he asked.

"Yeah, man, it's always been tomorrow," Lance confirmed. "Our secret mission to get crunk as fuck starts tonight at twenty one hundred hours. Hangover's scheduled for tomorrow morning, mullet head."

Keith didn't respond. Nothing was making sense.

_What was going on?_

"You okay, buddy? You don't look too good."

Keith glanced up at him in a weird daze.

"Uh, I… I'm not s—"

"Rise and shine, soldiers," a voice called out. Keith looked up to see Sergeant Iverson walking up their side of the room. Tall, bearded, and perpetually frowning, his gaze was sharp and hawk-like as he surveyed them. As someone who had lived through so many battles, it wasn't surprising that his character had become hard as steel.

"Good morning, Sarge," Lance said with a casual salute from bed.

"Were any of you knuckleheads the one who raided the PX last night?" Sergeant Iverson asked.

"No, sir," Lance lied as Hunk shifted in his bed. "Why?"

The sergeant's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and as they glared at Lance, Keith was hit with a sudden flash of déjà vu. This exact moment had happened in his dream as well.

"Was there, uh, some kind of issue with security?" Keith asked. In his dream, they were informed that something else, something completely unrelated, had happened around the same time Lance and Hunk had broken into the PX. As the security measures had heightened given all the foreign soldiers who had transferred onto their base — including Keith's entire bunk corner except himself — , they had discovered that their break-in at the PX did not go entirely unnoticed as planned.

Iverson turned to Keith with a frown.

"How'd you hear about that?"

"J-just a guess," Keith said quickly, looking down at his feet. The back of his neck burned under Iverson's scrutiny. He gave his wrist a hard pinch and had to keep his teeth clenched to stop himself from hissing too loudly in pain. He definitely wasn't still dreaming.

When he looked back up, Iverson's gaze had shifted onto the others.

"Now I know there tends to be a lot of funny business right before a big day," Iverson continued as though there had been no interruptions. "But regardless of whodunnit, at oh-nine-hundred, all of you are going to assemble out for Physical Training on the Training Field, no questions asked."

"Seriously?" Lance yelped as Hunk groaned. "PT the day before battle?"

"That's an order, soldier," Iverson stressed before turning heel and walking away.

Their whole corner stayed silent until Iverson was well out of earshot.

"Ugh, Lance, I told you last night was a bad time," Hunk said. "But no. Whenever I have a bad feeling about something, you never listen."

"Oh, quit worrying," Lance said, waving a hand. "Besides, Pidge took care of the security cams at least, right?"

"Yeah, I did," she said. "But just as a precaution, we should probably watch how much we drink so that the acetaldehyde levels in our blood don't give us away."

"Pidge is right," Allura agreed. "We wouldn't really want to handle firearm while hungover anyways."

"Oh, come on," Lance said, throwing his hands up in the air. "It's the day before battle! And besides, we gotta make it out alive tomorrow first before worrying about getting caught."

"I hate it when you talk like that," Hunk muttered.

Keith blinked. Every word said so far was playing out the exact same way as it had in his dream.

_What the hell was going on?_

—-

PT that morning was just as tedious and gruesome as Keith remembered. They ran laps, did sit-ups, and like in all PT sessions, had to undergo the torture of the iso pushup hold. Keith was still not entirely sure whether or not he had just hit his head too hard and was under a false impression that he had lived this day already.

After three hours of sweat and grind, they sat through an hour lecture from the same boring commissioned officer. Having already heard the lecture, Keith focused his attention instead on everything else. Allura was trying really hard not to fall asleep. Blinking about five times per second, her eyes slipped in and out of focus as she stared at the officer. Lance appeared sleepy, but he was inspecting his nails with a dazed smile that told Keith he was probably entertaining himself in his head to keep himself awake. Pidge looked like she was paying attention, but Keith could tell by her glossy eyes that her mind was elsewhere. Hunk, on the other hand, had his eyes fully closed without pretense.

The rest of the soldiers in the room more or less reflected these behaviors. Keith tapped his finger in impatience. Apparently, reliving a boring speech didn't make time pass by faster.

And to think they had all died on the beach today.

 _You mean tomorrow_ , his mind corrected. _We're all going to die tomorrow._

The thought was unsettling, but even as it came, even as the idea of _tomorrow_ began to fully form in his head, Keith realized it was the truth. The battle he had already experienced on the beach still had yet to happen. Whatever it was, this was the reality he was living in now.

They were all going to die — that is, if the “nightmare” was real at all.

Finally, at long last, they were dismissed for lunch.

As the day went on, Keith observed everything happening around him, still trying to make sense of it all. Aside from minor differences in his speech and action, every single second passed by exactly the same way as it did in his dream. They had tuna and veggies with rice for lunch, then chicken later for dinner. Lance flirted with the cute girl dolloping sauce over their dishes at both meals, and after supper, Hunk and Pidge played a few rounds of poker with some other soldiers. Then, after that, they all turned in for the liquor party at twenty one hundred hours.

Keith still had no idea what had caused this phenomenon or why he alone seemed to be aware that something strange was going on. Perhaps his dreams somehow had become the future. The whole incident felt both real and fake at the same time. He had established that his sharp senses weren't lying to him, that what he was experiencing was, in fact, real. But on the other hand, he wasn't sure if he had simply gone crazy. War did strange things to people's heads after all.

Either way, he decided to stay at their pre-battle party until the festivities were over. Maybe something different would happen. He still couldn’t tell.

—

Keith woke early the next morning to find that he was still living in whatever reality he found himself in yesterday. Nothing had changed from his "dream." Allura was sitting up in bed with her chin on her knees, Lance had a hangover from the night before, and Hunk was feeling sick to his stomach out of sheer nerves. Pidge was still lying down with her back turned to them, but he suspected that she was awake.

He checked his watch: 5:36 AM. Turning to Allura, who seemed at present the most calm and ready to answer a strange question, Keith asked: "Hey Allura — we're suiting up in about half an hour, right?"

"Yes, of course," she replied, turning to face him with a perplexed look. "Did you sleep okay? Drink too much? You don't look hungover, but one can never be too sure."

"No, it's nothing like that, it's—" Keith broke off, unsure how to explain. They had less than half an hour before suiting up, and whatever he had to say about repeating an entire day needed much more time than that. So instead, he settled for a shrug and the most normal answer he could think of. "Well, I drank much less than Lance."

"You know what, I don't need to take your shit in the morning, mullet head," Lance grumbled from above. "At least I still have my head on straight about what day it is."

"Guys, please stop talking," Hunk groaned, voice muffled beneath his hands covering his face. "It's giving me a headache."

The group fell into silence. Keith's gaze dropped down to his feet in contemplation. The battle was still happening, and if everything else had repeated itself up to this point, then so would their deaths. Unless Keith could change the outcome somehow.

He didn’t know if it worked that way, but he had to try.

At the same exact time as he did before, Sergeant Iverson turned up.

"Rise and shine, soldiers," he said. "Judgement Day is here. Be ready to suit up in twenty minutes!"

"Yes, sir!" they cried in unison.

 _See you on the battlefield_ , Keith thought in his head before Iverson said the exact same thing out loud.

—

After suiting up with a rocket launcher, a battery pack, the rifle, and shoulder cannons in place, Keith and the other soldiers marched off towards the giant dropships that would take them to Sagami Bay.

When they arrived on the open landing strip, their squadron was stopped to allow the troops from 4th Company to pass by first. Keith halted with the rest of his platoon as they waited.

The last time Keith was here in this exact time and place, he had zoned out completely. This time, he held tightly onto his rocket launcher, fingers closing around the barrel as he willed his hand to remember its grip. He didn't want to lose it like he did in the last battle.

As the last leg of soldiers from 4th Company finished up their trek to their aircrafts, Keith saw out of the corner of his eye a tall figure walking by in a different direction. When the man passed them, a shiny glint caught Keith's eye, causing him to glance up at once.

It was the Champion. Trademark battle axe held at his side, he strode with an imperturbable confidence towards the rising sun. The outline of his silhouette glowed with the backdrop of light behind him, and the black coat of his suit was — was it ... _shimmering_?

Blinking twice, Keith shielded his eyes with his hand and squinted again at the retreating figure. There was no illusion there: Sergeant Shirogane's Jacket was indeed shimmering. Keith hadn't noticed it the day before — _you mean later today_ , he corrected — but now, with the morning light reflecting off the Champion's dark suit, Keith realized that it wasn't black at all, but a deep metallic purple that shone with a violet glow in the sun.

"Psst, Hunk, look!" he heard Lance whisper from behind him. His entire bunk corner was clustered near the front of the squadron with him and Allura standing in front of Hunk, Lance, and Pidge. "It's _him_. That guy's my hero!"

"I heard he was a bloodthirsty killer," Pidge hissed back. "But great model for a hero, huh, Lance?"

"Whatever, Pidge," Lance huffed. "The world would have been destroyed right now if it weren't for him."

"Why isn't his armor a normal color though?" Hunk asked as the uniformed people up ahead gave them the clearance to move forward. "I mean, I know nobody’s really going to be paying attention to it on the battlefield but I want a fun colored Jacket, too. Don’t we all deserve fun colored Jackets?"

Keith wondered the same thing. Everyone else's suits were a standard gray. He wondered if Sergeant Shirogane made the specific request himself. With his status, Keith supposed he could commission anything to be made. It was probably one of the reasons he carried a battle axe instead of a rocket launcher.

As Keith boarded the dropship with the rest of his platoon, he couldn't help thinking how fitting it was for a guy like Sergeant Shirogane to be picked as the poster boy for the war. Not only was he handsome in a way that fit the part, but he gave off the vibe of silent confidence that made others feel safe and secure. Even though everyone said he was a coldblooded killer, Keith personally thought he had a face you could trust and find comfort in. And no matter what type of person the Champion was, he represented hope to all mankind.

Keith couldn't let him die.

The aircraft took off. Soon, it would drop them all into the vicious snatches of the Robeasts. They would be like helpless worms fed to ravenous birds, and worse, Keith would have to relive it again.

The steady beating of rotor blades pounded a loud rhythm as they flew across the city. As the base was located somewhere just beyond Mt. Odake, the trip to Sagami Bay wasn't going to be very long. For lack of something better to do, his fingers readied itself on the trigger of his right arm's gun attachment. There would be no time to find it later. Upon hitting the sand, they would fall right into the enemy's line of attack.

"Allura, you had fun last night, right?" Lance's voice sounded out from the comm in his ears.

"Sure," she responded. "We all did."

"So if we were to make it out of this alive, would you want to—”

"No, Lance," Allura said flatly. Keith could imagine her rolling her eyes. Lance flirting with Allura had started out as a genuine and innocent activity, but somewhere down the line, as they all became closer friends — minus Keith — it had transitioned into casual teasing instead.

"Lance, for the last time, we can all hear you when we're on the comms," Hunk's voice droned over the noise of the rotor blades.

"Yes, please, what Hunk said," Pidge tacked on. "I don't want your poor attempts at flirting to be the last thing I hear before I die."

"Friends, you wound me," Lance said in mock hurt. "Do you want that to be the last thing you hear when we die?"

Keith checked the chronometer on his suit. _T-minus ten... nine…_

"Lance, please stop talking," Hunk groaned. "I'm already feeling queasy without your constant voice in my head."

_Six... five…_

"Aw, Hunk, just trying to lighten up the mood before it all hits," came Lance's reply.

_Three... two…_

"Positions, ready!" Sergeant Iverson commanded as the aircraft floor beneath them opened up, ready to drop them down onto the field. Keith gripped his rocket launcher tighter and prepared himself for what he knew would come next.

"Go, go, go!"

Bracing himself, he dropped down and landed on two feet. Just like before, they were bombarded at once, surrounded by gunfire and soldiers falling and screaming. Considerably more aware of his surroundings this time, Keith's eyes traced along the path he tread in the last loop, trying to remember where the Champion came onto the scene.

"Look out!" Allura yelled from behind him. Keith dove for the ground at once, taking cover. He didn't look twice at the fallen soldier before him and was already pulling himself up as Sergeant Iverson grabbed his arm to help.

"We need to move!" the sarge shouted. Keith allowed himself to be dragged along. The suit still weighed heavily down upon him as he struggled to remember what happened next. The battlefield had been chaotic with so many different things simultaneously reacting all around him.

"This is insane! They're crushing us!" Lance cried.

“Fire in the hole!”

They took cover behind the truck as the ground shook beneath them. Keith's eyes scanned the beach, trying to pinpoint significant instances of attack. He took a mental note of the dropship that blew up and killed the rest of the team and the side from which the Robeast would appear minutes before the explosion happened. He just couldn't shake the feeling that he was forgetting something…

"Holy shit!"

Keith whipped around to the sound of bullets and paled.

_Shit._

He had forgotten a Robeast had appeared here. Turning his gun on it at once, he fired. But before he could get three shots out, the creature sent a javelin soaring straight towards his chest—

—

His left hand was wrapped around the hilt of his knife. Creaking one eye open, he squinted at the blade before him as the images from his previous death faded away. His current view of the small weapon didn't change — the dagger was real and lying in front of him. The Robeast, on the other hand, was gone. Blinking, he sat up in bed and ran a hand down his back.

No wounds. All healed. Or rather, not wounded yet.

He scanned the barracks around him. Everything was the same as before. Hunk was snoring in his bed. Pidge was turned the other way. Lance's classical music was playing on the radio, along with the sound of paper rifling. Exactly as it had been before.

Lifting his arm, Keith took the knife and placed the blade at his palm. It felt cool and smooth upon his skin. Pressing the sharp edge against his hand, he ran the knife down a light, quick stroke until he drew blood. The sting that followed felt just as real as the javelin that had pierced his chest just minutes before.

"Hey, sign this," came Lance's voice. Keith gave a tiny jolt of surprise and stowed the knife under his pillow. A piece of paper descended into his line of sight. He gazed at it with suspicion.

_So that hadn't changed either._

"Hello? You there, mullet head?" Lance asked, waving the paper in front of his face.

"Right," Keith said, taking it from him. Instead of scribbling his name right away, however, he stared at the confession, hardly paying attention to any of the words.

How many times would this day repeat itself, he wondered, and was it always triggered by his death on the battlefield? Would it keep going forever with no end in sight? And how did he end up in this strange, new reality in the first place? Was he the only one who was experiencing this? What if everyone around him was going through the same thing, but in their own heads?

"Lance," he said, tilting his chin up so he could project his voice upwards better. "Can I ask you something that might sound weird?"

"What? Just sign on the line, man," Lance's voice came from above. "And no funny business. Don't draw anything extra that shouldn't be there on the back or anything."

"Well, it's just — wait. Why would I do that?"

"I don't know. It's the kind of thing I would've done. I've pulled that shit before in the past."

"... What did you draw?"

"Nothing of real consequence at the time," he replied. "High school days, you know."

"Was it by any chance a phallic symbol?" Keith droned.

"Don't ask questions, buddy, just sign the damn paper."

Rolling his eyes, Keith scribbled his name and handed it back. "Anyway, what I was gonna ask was, the attack's tomorrow, right?"

"Um, yeah?" Lance responded as he took the sheet from Keith. "I don't think that's the kind of thing they would just change."

"Of course they wouldn't," Keith said quickly. Then, after a short pause: "Do you think it's possible for someone to relive the same day over and over again?"

"What, like groundhog's day?"

"Sure."

"Hmm." Keith heard the mattress creak as Lance, by the sound of it, laid down on his back to consider the matter.

"Not gonna lie, it would've been a pretty sweet deal if it had happened to me three years ago," he said with a fond sigh, no doubt reminiscing on happier memories. "High school would've been so different. But… it's like one of those myths, right? Getting the chance to try different things every time and learning from your mistakes? Sounds like a nice, idealistic dream that's too good to be true."

_Right, a nice dream…_

It felt like a dream, definitely. But "too good to be true?" — well, Keith had yet to see the validity in that.

—

Once again, everything unfolded itself around him the same exact way it did before. Sergeant Iverson came in to tell them off and give them PT, Lance and Hunk griped about it, they went out onto the field to do their push-ups, and then sat through an hour long boring lecture. The only differences that happened were all made by Keith. If he butted into the conversation or said something he hadn't said last time, the others would respond a little differently. Lance wasn’t wrong when he said it’d be interesting to experiment.

Other than those minor instances, everyone acted the same way they did before. It was as though the rest of the world was following the same script, and they had to fall back into it after little interruptions. Unless Keith pushed far enough — perhaps saving someone's life — no drastic change would happen.

So this time, when he landed on the beach once more, he focused his efforts on keeping the team away from the exploding dropship. This time, when the Robeast from the ground appeared, Keith shot it down the moment it appeared.

"How is this happening?" Lance yelled. "I thought we were supposed to take them by surprise! Hunk — cover me!”

“I know!” Hunk replied. “I got your back!”

“I don’t know how but it definitely feels like they knew we were coming!” Pidge said.

“Five hundred meters and they’re closing in fast!” Allura shouted as she shot down a Robeast with her shoulder cannon. Keith turned around immediately to look for the one that had killed Lance the first time. It was crawling up onto the fallen aircraft and poised to aim a javelin straight at his teammate.

If Keith could change the outcome this time, he had to try.

Before Lance could say “Nice one, Allura!" Keith aimed a blow at the beast with the rocket launcher. The missile hit its mark but also blew up the dropship, and before he knew it, all Keith could see was fire and—

—

His left hand was wrapped around the hilt of his knife. His body was whole. No burns or scratches. He was still alive. Again.

He sat up in his bed. After having the phenomenon repeat itself again, Keith was starting to believe it would never stop. It appeared that he was trapped in a series of loops that he couldn’t escape from.

How many times would he have to do this? How long would this go on?

The word _"forever"_ crossed his mind and he took a moment to let that sink in. _Forever_ . It crashed down on him like a ton of bricks. _Forever_ . He'd wake up in bed like this, lying in the same position, _forever_ . He'd have to sign Lance's stupid confession, _forever_ . He'd have to get up and do PT, _forever_ . And worst of all, he'd have to face the Robeasts on the same damn beach. _Forever_.

It was like the promise of sudden death, only he would have to get up the day before and do it all over again. Die, die, and die again. The attack on the beach was a fixed point in a loop from which he had no escape. _"Too good to be true"_ his ass. He was trapped in a fucking nightmare.

"Hey, sign this."

Keith alone couldn't save them all. He was a mere fresh recruit who was only eighteen years old and if he was the only person who knew of the impending doom, humanity was going to end.

He had to warn everyone.

"Lance," he said quietly, ignoring the piece of paper dangling from the top bunk. "We're all going to die."

A stunned silence greeted these words, followed by a creak in the mattress above and Lance's head appearing over the edge.

"Oooo-kay, Keith. You feeling alright? Existential angst, perhaps? I always wondered why you were so quiet. What's wrong? Talk to me, buddy. You can tell me anything, I'm here for you, _amigo_."

"I'm serious!"

"And I'm Lance," he replied with a skeptical look on his face. "Look, I understand that you're maybe a little worried because tomorrow's the battle and everything, but we're going to try our best and hope we live to see another d—”

"No, you don't know what you're talking about," Keith stressed, "We're all going to die."

"Hey, we're all scared about the battle tomorrow as it is," Lance reasoned, with the air of someone trying to bring the conversation back onto a level of common understanding. "We don't need that pessimistic attitude. And besides. The battle's not even until tomorrow. You gotta live a little, mullet head."

"I'm not fucking around with this," Keith asserted. He was starting to feel his blood start to boil. He needed them to understand the severity of the situation. They were all walking straight into their deaths and consequently, the world's, and despite his blatant honesty, Lance wasn't taking him seriously. "It's going to be a slaughterhouse tomorrow!"

"What's Keith shouting on about?" said Hunk sleepily from his bed. "It's too early for this."

"I'm not shouting!" They needed to _know_.

"Uh, with all due respect, my friend," Lance said with a concerned expression. "You kinda are."

Keith looked around at the rest of the room. Hunk had turned around to face him, Allura was now sitting up with her gaze fixed on him, and Pidge had propped herself up with her pillow. They were all waiting for him to continue.

"I know it sounds crazy, but I'm telling the truth," Keith said, addressing them all. Although he was trying to keep his voice down, it still shook with frustrated rage. "The battle has already happened for me — thrice — and we're going to be outnumbered beyond belief. They're going to slaughter us."

"Hold up, hold up," Pidge said, donning her glasses and putting them on. "You said the battle has already happened for you?"

"Yes," Keith said through gritted teeth. He did not know how much clearer he could get.

"Are you saying you're from the future?"

"What! No way, do mullets come back in fashion twenty years from now?" Lance asked with a smirk.

"Does that mean time travel will indeed have been invented?" Hunk said in awe.

"And if so, where is your other self at this moment right now?" Pidge asked.

"What? No," Keith said, momentarily confused by the question. "No, no other self. I'm where I've always been at this time."

“How is that possible?” Pidge countered. Keith looked around. He was definitely not the only one who was lost. Sensing their confusion, she continued. “Look. I'm just saying. If you indeed have experienced the battle tomorrow already, how can you be at the same time and place right now? Unless, we're actually living in a multiverse where every action we make leads into its own universe, but wait, that still doesn't completely fit because if every action brings us to a different universe, it still doesn't answer the question of how one can live the same day twice? Because assuming that what you are saying is true, what happened to the last timeline you lived in, and how did—”

"English, _Pidgista_ , English," Lance demanded. "Way too early for that."

"It's not that," Allura said before Pidge could retaliate. "I understand what you're saying Pidge, but I think Keith is implying that the future seems to have… _un-happened_. And therefore he's living the same day twice."

"The third time, actually, not including the very first loop."

"Like groundhog's day?" Lance interjected. "Man, if I could've done that back in high school, maybe I'd still be with Emma right now."

"But how is that different?" Pidge asked. "If he is postulating that A, he's lived this moment before and B, he's fought in the battle already tomorrow, then we'd need to know how much energy he needed to exert to actually reverse time and undo what happened tomorrow, and if light travels at a speed of three times ten to the eight power miles per—"

"Look, I don't care," Keith interrupted. "That's not the point. The point is, one way or another, I've experienced this. And one way or another, I can tell you now that if we don't get our act together, there won't _be_ a future."

The four of them glanced around at each other in silence, all with perplexed expressions on their faces. Keith watched as they wordlessly exchanged conversation among themselves. After a few seconds had passed, they all nodded and seemed to have come to an agreement with one another.

"You're crazy," Lance said. "You know, I always had the suspicion but I kept wondering if you'd ever crack. Guess the day before battle really pushes people to the edge."

"I'm _not_ crazy!"

"Keep shouting and see if that changes my mind," Lance retorted.

"You—"

"Soldiers, what's going on?"

"He started it," Lance announced at once, pointing an accusing finger at Keith. "Says we'll all die tomorrow."

"Sergeant," Keith said urgently, an idea lighting him at once as he scrambled out of bed and walked up towards Iverson. "Sergeant, we need to warn everyone. The Robeasts are going to slaughter us tomorrow and we're gonna be severely outnumbered and if we don't do something about it—"

"Stand down, Soldier," Iverson commanded, looking bored. "You're not the only new recruit to lose his nerve before his first day of battle. Happens all the time. You've got a few minutes to calm yourself before the morning begins."

"But—"

"Now," Iverson continued, as though there had been no interruption. "Were any of you knuckleheads the one who raided the PX last night?

And just like that, the rest of the script fell back into place.

—

Frustrated and discouraged about being unable to convince his squadron about his predicament, Keith decided to stop trying to convince them. No matter what he said to try and prove he was telling the truth, they always had a bit of doubt — and in Lance’s case, a lot of doubt. Instead, he’d take matters into his own hands the best he could.

Each loop, he'd go along with the standard flow of the day, trying his best to save his teammates while pushing further and further into the battle. Once in a while, if Keith strayed from routine far enough, he could force something entirely different to happen.

One time, he ditched PT and found himself doing twice the amount of pushups when he got caught. Another time, he went to the party with the rest of his team and stayed until Hunk threw up. Sometimes, he failed to save Lance and Hunk within the first five minutes of battle. Other times, he only managed to save one but not the other.

It took a few more times in the loop for him to figure out a few strategies that would yield the best outcome. If he killed the Robeast that would kill Lance before it actually killed Lance, no one would throw a grenade at it and cause the dropship to explode. And if that happened, then he'd have to watch out for a fresh new alien from their left. Everything on the board acted the exact same way and every major divergence would lead to the same consequence, but only if Keith performed each move exactly the way he needed to.

Eventually, he started marking the number of the loop he was in with a pen. He was now on number twelve.

Over the last eight loops, he had tried a variety of different actions and words on his part, each movement branching out into different possibilities and outcomes. In a sense, Lance was right. Having the chance to experiment while everyone else was reading from the same script was interesting and sometimes even entertaining (especially the one time he short-sheeted Lance's bed before he stumbled back from the party, just to see what would happen. The results did not disappoint).

But despite the deviations he made here and there, there was one thing he kept to every time he went through the loop: the Champion. Once he could brush past the first few minutes of battle with his main squad making it out alive, Keith focused his energies on trying to save Sergeant Shirogane.

He supposed hope was the main reason he felt so drawn to the guy. Somehow in his head, Keith thought that if he could alert the Sergeant to their imminent fate, he could unlock the key to saving the world.

So far, in the last four loops, he had only gotten far enough to attempt saving him twice. Fortunately, Keith had grown more accustomed to moving in the suit and using his weapons, making it easier for him to get closer and closer to his goal.

An explosion sounded to his right as, for the fifth time, he made his way towards the clearing where he first ran into the Champion. By now, Keith could remember which vantage points the Robeasts would attack from and he aimed accordingly right as they appeared, killing them off as they came.

As he approached the area where the Champion normally showed up, Keith found him already in the thick of battle between the thirteen Robeasts. Stopping in his tracks, he pulled out his rocket launcher; he had saved all three shots just for this moment.

With the cannon pointed directly on target, Keith fired. The first shot hit two Robeasts at once, sending both flying backwards into the air and exploding apart into pieces. The second and third shot succeeded in taking down three more. Tossing his rocket launcher aside, he began running towards the Champion while firing rounds at the remaining aliens.

“Watch out!” Keith yelled as he shot down a Robeast who was about to take a swing at the Sergeant.

As the Champion turned around to face him, Keith tried to slow down, but before he could stop himself, he barreled straight into him, knocking him down to the ground just as a Robeast lashed out at them from the right. Without looking, he raised an arm and blasted it into pieces as it flew over their heads.

"I'm sorry!" Keith yelled, face inches away from the Champion's. "I'm trying to save you!"

Another Robeast appeared at the corner of his eye and he turned his gun on it at once. After firing a few rounds at it, he turned back to the Champion.

"We're going to get slaughtered out here," he said. " _You_ need to get us off this beach!"

Pushing himself into an upright position, Keith brought out his shoulder cannons to shoot at the the Robeast in front of them.

"Come on," Keith said, lifting himself up off the ground and stepping away from the dropship next to them. In just a few more seconds, he knew it would soon explode. "This dropship is about to explode. We need to move."

He got about three meters away before turning back around to the Champion. He had pushed himself into a seated position but had not stood up from the ground. Instead, Sergeant Shirogane merely stared at him with a curious expression, his face dirty and grimy from gunpowder and dust.

“Get away from the dropship, it’s about to explode!” Keith repeated with more urgency as he tried to pull him up by his prosthetic arm. Withdrawing his hand away from Keith's, the Sergeant got back on both feet and leaned against his axe.

“Come on!” Keith urged. If he were really the Champion, wouldn’t he have the sense to get out of the way? “There’s no time!”

But Sergeant Shirogane didn't move a muscle; he continued to gaze at Keith instead with suspicion in his eyes. Then, to Keith's astonishment, he threw his axe down into the sand.

“What are you doing?” Keith shouted, looking back and forth between the man and his discarded weapon.

“Find me when you wake up,” he said.

“What?” Keith’s heart was hammering in his ears. He could feel the seconds leading up to the explosion like a ticking bomb in his mind. If they didn’t get out of the way soon—

“Come find me when you wake up!” he yelled.

“Wait! What are you—”

The aircraft behind them blew up, causing a sharp ringing in his ears before it engulfed them both in flames.

With a start, Keith woke up with his left hand wrapped around the hilt of his dagger. He was back in his bunk. Bringing his right hand up to his face, he felt his skin. No burns. Keith wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to it, no matter how many times he went through the loop.

But this time, something had changed. This time, something was different.

“Hey, sign this.”

Keith threw his covers off and stood up, ignoring Lance’s protests.

He had to go find the Champion of Sakai.


	2. we made it to this time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith finds Shiro and discovers both the reason behind his time loops and the only way to defeat the Robeasts. Getting there, however, is another matter -- one that involves dying, again and again and again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So without further ado, here's chapter 2 :)

Keith ran down the hallway and out of their barracks, ignoring Lance’s shouts of “Hey! Get your ass back here and sign this!” He wasn't entirely sure, but he had an idea of where the Champion might be, having observed his routine over the last twelve loops. Keith had looked up once near the end of PT on his fifth loop to see him walk by as their squadron endured the gruesome ISO pushups. Despite feeling his arms almost give out beneath him, Keith had kept his head lifted as he watched the Sergeant walk across the asphalt from the indoor training grounds.

That was the direction Keith headed in now.

When he entered the building, he saw four rows of training floors in a line, each resembling a racquetball court. The people standing by the first court barely gave him notice so he continued down the room, hoping he’d find the guy.

All the soldiers that occupied the spaces here were of higher rank than Keith. They were just beginning to prepare for training as he walked past them.

The third training arena was active. Four giant, metal claws that resembled the general shape and movement of Robeasts were spinning and rotating within the walls, orbiting around a singular point. It was then that Keith spotted him. Right in the center of the floor amidst the whirring and clinking of machines was the Champion himself. Arms on the ground with his back straight and feet off the floor, he held himself up in a perfect [ planche ](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/ba/Planche.jpg/1200px-Planche.jpg), balanced and unmoving.

The initial urgency Keith felt from earlier faded as he gazed down at the Champion. His entire upper body was covered in small scratches and scars — and now that he was staring, Keith couldn't help notice the glistening sheen of sweat coating his muscles as the Sergeant maintained his plank-like position. Eyes closed and head facing downwards, he exuded both peace and intensity. He was so deep in focus Keith felt mesmerized by it; he simply couldn't take his eyes off of him.

_"Come find me when you wake up!"_

The Champion’s words echoed back to him as Keith blinked and shook himself out of his reverie. Clearing his throat, he stepped up as close as he could get to the training floor without being walloped by one of the claws.

"Uh, Sergeant?" he called out tentatively. For a moment, the Champion didn't move. Then, slowly lowering his legs until his toes touched the ground, he bent his knees and rolled his spine up into a seated position, muscles shifting and bulging as he straightened his back.

Keith shot a quick glance at the control panel, then looked up at the claws. Unsure of how to operate the training room, he began to walk forward, carefully side-stepping as needed away from the spinning claws. The Sergeant had gotten up to his feet and, with crossed arms, turned to face Keith with a stern expression.

"Who told you to come here?" he asked. His voice was calm, but there was a note of mild annoyance behind it. "If it's Iverson, he knows not to interrupt my morning sessions."  
  
"Uh — you did," Keith said quickly, finally making it to the center of the room. A strange heat was spreading down his neck; he was suddenly distinctly aware that the Champion was shirtless. "You told me to come here — yester — I mean, tomorrow, at the beach. We meet tomorrow, and you told me to come find you."

He watched as the Champion narrowed his eyes, his mind processing the given information. Keith shifted uncomfortably. What if he didn’t believe him?

But then, as understanding settled in, a hint of emotion stirred in his features before the Sergeant composed his face again.

“You know what’s happening to me,” Keith said, looking up at the Champion. It wasn’t a question.

“I do,” he nodded. "Come with me."

Stepping forward, the Champion headed towards the control panel in a straight line as the claws whizzed by him. He grabbed a black shirt lying on the ground and threw it on. Once he punched one of the buttons on the control box, the metal claws stopped moving, allowing Keith to follow along.

When they made their way outside, the Sergeant began to talk.

"So the thing you're experiencing now happened to me before," he explained in a low whisper as he led them away from the building at a fast pace. "We don't speak to anyone about this. They won't understand. Believe me, I've tried. The best case scenario is you end up in a psych ward. Worst case scenario, they dissect your brain for science."

“What exactly _is_ happening to me?” Keith asked. “Do you still have it?”

“I’ll go into depth when we get to the labs,” he replied. “But no, I don’t. I lost it.”

“Wait. You _lost_ it?” Keith raised an eyebrow, expecting further elaboration. “So, you don't have it anymore? Like, it's not permanent? That means we can fix me. How do we do that?"

“We don’t,” he said.

“We — what? You won’t? Why?!”

Gripping the younger man's arm, the Champion pulled him over into a shaded corner between two buildings as people passed them by.

"With all due respect, Sergeant, I don’t want to be stuck in this… whatever it is, forever," Keith said.

"I know," he said, putting a hand on Keith's shoulder. Keith supposed this gesture was meant to comfort him, but he only felt more annoyed. "Believe me, no one knows that better than I. But this is war, and we need you. The world needs you. We need to use this to our advantage and defeat the Robeasts once and for all.”

"But—"

"Come on." Keeping his hand on Keith’s shoulder, Shiro guided him forward. “We need to consult Coran.”

—

The Champion led him into a building he had never entered before. Inside were several stations decked with computers, vials, books — basically everything they would need to run lab experiments. The sight of all this made Keith think of Pidge and how ecstatic she would be if she could tinker with any of it.

They continued their walk through a hallway and down the stairs towards the basement. A heavy metal door greeted them at the bottom of the steps and, after yanking down a huge lever, the Sergeant pushed it open and brought Keith into the room.

"Ah, Shiro! I didn't expect to see you today," Keith heard. A tall man with ginger hair and a mustache stood at the center table, nodding to the Champion as he walked in. "I know you usually like to get into a good headspace the day before a battle and it's been awhile since you've come to see me but I really was hoping to — oh! Who's this, now?"

"Hi, Coran. Hope we're not interrupting anything too important. This is…" he blinked and turned to face Keith. "I'm sorry, I never got your name."

"Keith."

"Keith," he repeated. “This is Coran.”

"Hello, Keith! What squadron are you from?" Coran asked.

"The 5th Company," Keith answered.

"Oh, lovely! My niece Allura is also there," Coran said. "You must know her?"

"Uh, yeah actually," he said. "I do."

"Wonderful," he said cheerfully. "Well, I'm Dr. Coran. I specialize in particle physics, advanced microbiology, you know. Fun stuff."

"He’s the only other person who will believe what’s happening to you," the Sergeant said. “No one understands Robeast biology better than him. He’s a top analyst at Tochō.”

“Was,” Coran corrected. “Until I met Shiro here and was unfairly dubbed the ‘mechanic with psychiatric delusions’ — I mean, can you believe that? Such nonsense!”

“Somehow, I think I can,” Keith commented under his breath as he watched Coran pull on his mustache, eyes wide and bulging behind his goggles.

“Anyway, Coran,” Sergeant Shirogane said. "We need your help. Keith has what I had. He dies tomorrow at the beach."

"Oh really now?" Coran's interest was piqued even further. He set down the tools he had been holding and came closer. Lifting the goggles off his face, he circled Keith like a hawk, looking him up and down with scrutinizing eyes. "How did it happen? What was it like? Have you gotten any visions yet? How many loops are you in? Wait, nevermind. How many fingers am I holding up?"

Coran hid both of his hands behind his back.

"What?" Keith asked, not having followed any of the questions thrown at him just now. "I — I don't know?"

"He hasn't been here yet," Shirogane explained.

"Ah, so this is your first time experiencing this right here," Coran said. Keith nodded. "Fascinating."

"I still don't know what happened to me exactly," Keith said. "Can you explain it?"

"Well, my boy, it's very simple," Coran began, but by his tone, Keith could tell that it would be everything but. "The first Robeast you killed before you died in the first loop: describe it."

"Uh." Keith forced his mind to think back and remember the moment more clearly. He was out of ammo and a Robeast had appeared before him, ready to strike. "Now that you mention it, something about that particular one was different from the others. I'm not sure how, but I knew. I think it might have been slightly bigger, and maybe radiating more… energy. If that makes sense."

"Perhaps with a purple glow?" the Sergeant prompted.

Keith thought back and tried to envision it again.

"Actually… yes." Until Shirogane had mentioned it, he hadn't registered the colors emanating from the beast quite as clearly before.

"So you killed one of the Druids," Coran stated.

"I killed one of the what?"

"Druids," Shirogane said. "That's just what we call them because they act a little bit like seers."

"Yes," Coran confirmed. "You see, you've got to think of the Robeasts as one giant, collective organism. Their minds are all interconnected in a way that we humans still have trouble understanding now. They are essentially part of one larger conscience and these Druid-like ones, well, they more or less have the ability to foretell the future and send little signals to the other Robeasts of how to defeat us in each battle."

"How?" Keith asked.

"By resetting the day," Shirogane replied. "The Druids have the power to reset the day. So every time they die, the day repeats itself for them. That's how they've been consistently several steps ahead of us. That's how they've been winning."

"Holy shit," Keith muttered under his breath. "No wonder humanity is doomed."

"No, it’s not,” Shirogane said. “Not if you can harness that power and use it to our advantage.”

"How?”

"By dying," he replied simply. "Again and again, until we win this war."

"Right," Coran added on. "Basically, when you killed that specific Robeast, the quintessence in its body seeped into your system. Your blood has imbibed and taken on the qualities from that quintessence, absorbing their power. You've tapped into their little mind-system and have seized control of the day." He broke off into a spurt of giggles. "Literally _carpe diem_. I can't believe I didn't think of that one before."

Shirogane's lips tightened but Keith could tell he was trying not to laugh. It was strange to imagine someone like the Champion of Sakai having a sense of humor when everyone had him pegged for a bloodthirsty killer. And then the thought occurred to him:

"So the battle of Sakai was when this all happened for you?"

"Yep," he replied. "It's when I finally discovered helmets were inconvenient."

He pointed to the scar across his nose. "The noise from the radio had always been so distracting anyways."

“Whoa,” Keith breathed in awe. “So, what's the game plan, then?"

"So here’s the trick about how the Robeasts work," Shiro said. "That larger conscience we mentioned? It's basically the Emperor Robeast of all the other Robeasts. Like the Druids, we believe the Emperor beast also has the quintessence and power to reset the day. However, as it is the ultimate king with the ultimate plan, the Druids do the dirty work. They're the ones that go into battle, scope out the situation, and relay back the code to winning."

"Exactly," Coran affirmed. "That is how they communicate. At some point, you may start seeing visions from the Druids. They often send signals to each other through some sort of brain waves and you may soon be caught in the middle of it."

"Eventually, you’ll also get a vision from the Emperor itself," Shiro said. "It's what happened to me. When we got a sign of its whereabouts, we tracked it into battle at once. Unfortunately, we were unable to kill it then. But this may be the most essential point for you to know: to destroy all the Robeasts, we must destroy the Emperor. That’s the game plan. That’s how we defeat them."

"So any visions you get at all, report it to us," Coran said.

"Then what?"

"Then I'm gonna find the Emperor beast and kill it," Shiro said, "ending this war once and for all."

The finality of his tone rang in Keith's ears. He had just been given a great deal of information and his head was starting to feel a little muddled.

"So, uh… let me get this straight,” Keith said after a long pause. “Basically, I have to die, die, and die again until I get a location on the Emperor."

"Right,” Shiro confirmed, as though it were that easy. “But first, you need to help me get off the beach tomorrow.”

"Me?" Keith asked, alarmed. "I'm still a new recruit. I haven't been able to make it past the first thirty minutes of that battle."

Shiro looked back at Coran, who nodded.

"Then let me help you," Shiro said, placing a hand on Keith's shoulder. "Once I’m done with you, you won’t be a new recruit anymore. Suit up and meet me back in the training room in ten minutes."

—

Keith supposed he was going to be ditching PT from now on as he made his way back to the same training floor he met Shiro in. Keith had to sneak around the base to avoid the current PT session going on, while Shiro apparently stayed to chat with Coran a little bit longer about tactics. Fortunately, Keith managed to get back to the training building without any disruptions. Once he arrived, he stepped into one of the composite suits there that was designated for training. By the time he got to the floor, Shiro was already there, suited up as well.

Although Keith had been through a few loops already, he was still very much a beginner when it came to combat with the Robeasts. The metal claws, though nothing like their alien counterparts, were designed with the help of scientists to move and act as closely as possible to the real thing and were more than enough for Keith to handle as a new recruit. Trying his best to keep his eyes on all four of them, he turned in place at the center of the floor as they rotated around him.

“You must think of the Robeasts as a single but collective entity,” Shiro called out from the control panel. “There’s a pattern to their movement. They are one interconnected organism, sending signals to one another.”

Keith didn’t bother to respond. With a deep breath, he lifted his gun arm and fired, trailing after each claw as they spun around him. He twisted this way and that, trying to pin each one down by sight as they shifted between his line of vision but they were too quick. Growing frustrated, he began shooting at random, turning in place while trying to lock down all four targets at once.

“You need to predict where they’re going to be,” Shiro commanded. “Soon, you'll find a pattern to their movements. Know them and you'll know where to hit.”

But it was no use. Keith knew he was failing to keep track of all four claws at once, but that didn’t soften the blow when one came hurtling towards him from behind, sending him flying across the room until he landed at Shiro’s feet.

Shiro gave him one brief look before picking up his battle axe and jumping into the fray. With one great swing, he struck down an entire claw off its metal bar then ducked low as another one came wheeling towards him from behind. Before the second claw made its way past him, he spun around and knocked it away, spiraling through the air only to chop down on a third. When the fourth one circled back around towards him, he launched himself forward with his axe held high, bringing the weapon straight down over what would've been the Robeast’s head.

The training bots slowed themselves down at his final blow. Lowering his axe, Shiro straightened up and walked back towards Keith.

“You don’t have time to think,” Shiro said as he bent down and held out a hand to Keith. “You need to stay focused.”

Keith looked up at him. Shiro was barely out of breath after taking out the machines.

Reaching up, he grabbed Shiro’s hand and pulled himself up. When he was back on his feet, Shiro fixed his gaze on him with a hard, intense look.

“Just remember,” he said, moving his hand to Keith’s shoulder and gripping it firmly. “Patience yields focus.”

Keith dusted himself off, ready to step back into action with the remaining claws left in the court. Lifting his gun as he walked forward, he took a deep breath and tried to pinpoint his target, but right as he was getting his bearings, one of the claws rammed straight into him and knocked him off his feet again. This time, he flew back several feet until he slammed into the wall. With a grunt of pain, he crumpled down to the ground, unable to move his legs. He heard the clanking of claws stop and footsteps on concrete as Shiro approached him.

"I think I… broke something," Keith groaned. His entire body was numb and his limbs didn’t seem to be responding to his brain. He tried to lift an arm, and then a leg, but found that neither was going to happen. "Possibly my tail bone."

"There's something really important I should have mentioned earlier," Shiro said as he knelt into a squat next to him. "If you're injured, you _have_ to make sure you die. Completely."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "When we went to ambush the Emperor Robeast, it took my arm. I was bleeding out, but not fast enough. Once it had escaped, I blacked out shortly after, expecting to wake up back in the loop. Instead, when I opened my eyes, everything was different. I was strapped to a hospital bed with a new arm and IV bags attached, and I was out. I lost the power. They had flushed out the quintessence with a blood transfusion and it was just… gone."

"I see." Keith managed to choke out. He leaned his head back against the wall and tried to breathe. "Die — all the way. Got it."

"So, that being said," and the sound of a pistol cocking reached Keith's ears. "Think we need to start over, don’t you agree?"

"What?" Keith looked up in time to see a gun pointed directly at him. "Whoa, wait-wait-wait, no, I just—"

But too late. Shiro had already pulled the trigger.

—

Keith woke in the morning — like always — with his left hand wrapped around the hilt of his dagger. Blinking, he pushed himself off his pillow, the image of Shiro’s gun still fresh on his mind.

“Hey, sign this.”

As usual, Lance dangled the confession at him. Taking it from him, Keith scribbled his name, passed it back, then marked the loop count on his wrist.

_Fourteen._

Although everything was unfolding around him the same way as before, Keith knew he was different now; something had changed. A fire seemed to have ignited in him, and with it, a renewed sense of purpose.

In the next following loops, Keith began a new routine. Wake up, mark the loop number on his wrist, sign the damn confession, get out of bed before Iverson came around, and fetch Shiro from the training room. Every time, he'd find Shiro in his planche workout, and every time, Keith would interrupt him to say the exact same thing.

"I'm Keith, we meet on the beach tomorrow and I have what you had. We're going to get slaughtered so you need to train me if we want to have any chance of winning this war."

Shiro would always process this for a few seconds before nodding.

"Then let's get to it, soldier."

The training sessions were rough. Shiro often grilled him about the Robeasts’ nature, their movements and patterns, but Keith couldn’t seem to catch on fast enough. One time, he had managed to knock down a metal claw, but crushed his leg in the process due to an extreme oversight on his part as another practice Robeast came tearing at him. Of course, the moment Shiro started walking towards him, Keith feared the worst.

“N-no, it’s okay,” he sputtered as he attempted to crawl away. “This is fine. I’m fine, I’m — ah, damn it.”

For Shiro already pointed the small pistol at him. Shutting his eyes, Keith waited for death.

Shiro was ruthless in his training sessions, showing Keith no mercy at all, just like the Robeasts would've done. Whenever Keith was badly injured by one of the metal claws, Shiro would stop the machines and walk up to him with a pistol in his hand. It didn't matter what Keith said to try and convince Shiro that he could pull through, Shiro would always apologize, point the gun at him, and pull the trigger.

Keith supposed that spending all that time with alien quintessence in his blood had made Shiro more and more like the Galra, ruthless and unmoved. Or, perhaps dying hundreds of times would make anyone turn out that way. Keith couldn't be sure just yet. He was only on loop twenty six after all.

It didn't take long for Keith to realize that all the hard work he put into training every single time would be reset along with the day. If each kill wound he experienced would be healed upon waking up, then the muscles he'd built up in a single day would also be undone. The only thing that stuck and persisted beyond the resets was anything that happened in his mind. Fortunately, he could retain every experience he had and every suggestion from Shiro. With each training session, he could feel his technique slowly improve.

It was exhausting, but also empowering. By the end of this, he’d have well over twenty years of experience without aging a single day and the prowess of a highly practiced man. It was no wonder that, from the outside, everyone found Shiro and his skill on the battlefield to be nothing short of amazing.

Not that knowing the secret behind Shiro’s talent stopped Keith from being amazed by the Champion. He was still an impressive fighter. But what really amazed Keith was that despite Shiro’s ruthlessness in the face of war, he was so much more than what Keith had expected. The more time they spent together, the more Keith realized that Sergeant Shirogane was actually a very gentle person.

Most times, he didn't get far enough in training to see this side of Shiro. As he neared his thirtieth loop, however, he started noticing little signs. How Shiro glowed with pride whenever Keith successfully predicted and avoided an attack. How he tried to hide a small encouraging smile whenever Keith pulled off a particularly complex movement. And how, on the rare occasion, he made subtle but clever jokes whenever the opportunity arose.

It almost hurt a little to know that the small moments of positive emotion Keith brought out in Shiro would just be reset along with everything else. Each loop Keith went through, he got to know Shiro a little better. But each time he woke up, Shiro would be meeting him again for the first time.

The phrase, _“Oh, sorry, I forgot you mentioned that in another loop, not this one,”_ became more frequent with every reset. Keith would blink and avert his gaze, worried that Shiro, who still saw Keith as a stranger, would not react well to this. But no matter how many times this happened, he was never prepared for the drop in his stomach when Shiro’s face softened and, with sad eyes, said, _“I understand.”_

Ultimately, they were in it for the war. As long as Keith kept improving, as long as they could fight their way off the beach, he knew those little forgotten interactions wouldn’t really matter in the end.

—

“I think you’re combat ready,” Shiro said during his forty sixth loop.

Keith straightened up to wipe the sweat off his brow as he took in those words. Although he had improved immensely within the five previous loops, this was the first time he had went through an entire full day of training without injuring himself at all.

“You should probably still spend this day training in future loops before heading off into battle the next day, but for all intents and purposes,” Shiro paused to give him a smile. “I think we ought to give it a go tomorrow.”

“So you’re not going to shoot me?” Keith said, trying but failing to stop the smirk from spreading across his face.

Shiro leaned back with a small tilt of his head.

“Is this the first time I haven’t offered to kill you? How many times has it been?”

“‘Offered’ is definitely not the right word,” Keith informed him. “And I’ve lost count. Probably like forty times though.”

That made Shiro chuckle, and as Keith looked up into his teasing face, he felt a weird lurch in his stomach.

“You’re a good sport, Keith,” he said, his voice still ringing with amusement. “Don’t take this the wrong way but out of all the people the quintessence could have happened to, I’m glad it was you.”

And then Shiro did something that caused the weird lurch to turn into a violent jump. Putting his hand on Keith’s shoulder, he drew him in and said with an intense look in his eyes:

"Just remember: patience yields focus."

—

As they were in different ranks, Keith still had to line up for battle with his own squadron. When their group arrived at the open landing strip as they always did at this point in the loops, they were stopped as usual to allow the 4th Company to walk through first. Unable to help himself, Keith’s eyes shifted over to where he knew Shiro would appear as he walked across the strip.

Once the troops had gone by, Keith saw him. Tall and clad in dark armour, Shiro walked with his battle axe held at his side. Like last time, the sun glinted off his shimmering suit, causing it to glow with a slightly purple gleam.

And then, it suddenly struck him why Shiro had chosen this color. Although Keith had seen Shiro in this armor on several occasions — first at the smoke-covered beach, then sometimes in their training sessions — seeing it now as it glimmered, it finally clicked. In his mind’s eye, he saw Shiro in combat, ruthless and quick as he spun out to cut his enemies down. Add a shimmering purple suit to the picture and it all made sense. If he could see Shiro in action under the sun, he knew without a doubt that the Champion would look like one of the Galra.

Keith wasn’t sure if this was some kind of respectful tribute or subtle mockery, but the symbolism behind it was clear, and he could appreciate that about Shiro.

"Psst, Hunk, look!" he heard Lance whisper from behind him. "It's _him_. That guy's my hero!"

"I heard he was a bloodthirsty killer," Pidge hissed back at them. "But great model for a—”

“He’s not,” Keith said suddenly in a firm tone. It was only when Allura turned to give him a strange look that he realized what he had just done.

“I mean, we don’t actually know him that well,” he said, avoiding Allura’s gaze.

“Like you’d know,” Pidge scoffed.

Just as Keith was about to respond, he saw out of the corner of his eyes Shiro glancing their way. Turning his attention back to the Champion, they locked eyes and Shiro gave him a slight nod before continuing his walk down the path.

“Wait, so you _do_ know him?” Lance exclaimed, as loud as he could without drawing the attention of Iverson. “How?”

But their platoon was given clearance to go at that moment, so with a mere shrug and an annoyed look back at Lance, Keith faced forward and walked on with a smug smile on his face.

—

Even with Shiro by his side, the battle on the beach proved much more difficult than Keith could have ever imagined. Shiro alone fought with the force of three Robeasts combined, but it wasn’t enough. There were too many of them. Every time they charged into battle, a tidal wave of Galra Robeasts overpowered them, drowning them in a wave of blood as they were pounded to a pulp.

And Keith would have to restart, restart, restart.

He was starting to think it was impossible.

 

_“You can do this, Keith, I know you can.”_

_“We’ve only gotten as far as an hour into battle, I don’t know if I can get us through to the end.”_

_“You can, and you will. Just remember: patience yields focus.”_

_“How can you tell me to be patient when I have to keep dying?!”_

_“I was in your place once. If I can do it, then so can you.”_

 

Restart, restart, restart.

 

_“Look out!”_

_“On your left!”_

_“I’ve got it covered!”_

_“Wait, no — this way!”_

_“What?”_

_“There’s going to be an explosion if we don’t—”_

 

Restart, restart, restart. There would be fire burning his skin, then his dagger on his pillow. A javelin flying straight toward his chest; his dagger on his pillow. Shiro fallen with eyes empty and open; his dagger on his pillow. Shiro’s head covered in blood; his dagger on his pillow. Shiro’s stomach bleeding out; his dagger on his pillow. Shiro, dead; his dagger. Shiro, dead; his dagger. Shiro, dead; his dagger.

Each loop made the end of the battle feel more impossible than the last. As hard as he tried, Keith just couldn’t seem to account for everything that would happen. Whenever they got even a single step further than they did in the times before, something new would happen — an explosion, an unexpected Robeast — and Shiro or Keith would die.

_Shiro, dead; his dagger. Shiro, dead; his dagger. Shiro, dead; his dagger._

Keith hated it when Shiro died first; it meant he had to watch it happen — again.

 

_“You’re not being specific enough. Be clear about each moment, or else I’m dead.”_

_“I’ve told you everything I know up to this point, we just can’t make it any further!”_

_“No, you can do this, Keith. You_ can _. I know you can.”_

 _“I’m … I’m_ trying _.”_

 

Once Keith had become a considerably good match for the Robeasts, what used to be physical training sessions with Shiro became tactical meetings with both Shiro and Coran. But no matter how hard they pushed or how much farther they got into the next loop, they still hadn’t found a way to make it off that beach.

“No, you can do this, Keith. You _can_. I know you can.”

“You’ve said that exact same thing in the last thirty loops now,” Keith groaned in frustration.

“Which means you’ve been doubting yourself in the last thirty loops,” Shiro said. “This is possible, Keith, and you are capable of it.”

“What if I’m not?”

“You are,” he repeated. “I believe in you.”

“No, I — I can’t,” Keith said in a pleading tone. “There’s… there’s gotta be another way. Can’t I transfer the quintessence over to you? Like how the Robeasts transferred it onto me?”

“Tried it already,” Coran piped up. “It doesn’t work that way. The Druids carry a massive amount of quintessence in their bodies that you, in your measly little human self, can’t possibly measure up to. When you killed that Druid, enough of it seeped into your bloodstream for the power to transfer over. Being considerably smaller, it’s just impossible for humans to carry the same amount needed to—”

“Okay, I get it,” Keith cut him off curtly. “I just — I’m sick of going through the same first half of the day over and over again only to end up back where I started.”

“But you’re not back where you started, no matter how many times you wake up in the same bed,” Shiro said. “You adapt and grow with each loop.”

“Yeah? Well, how many more loops is it going to take?!” Keith knew his shouting had gone slightly hysterical but he didn’t care. A heavy pain was pulsing loudly in his chest. Every time he swore he’d make it the last time he’d have to watch Shiro die, he’d go through the loop only to watch it happen again and again and again. “I’m sorry, I — I can’t. I can’t do this! I can’t get us out of that beach alive.”

“Keith, please,” Shiro said. And this time, his voice took on a softer calmness, bringing Keith’s emotions slowly down from his fired up rage and grounding it. Walking up to him, Shiro placed a hand on his shoulder, causing Keith’s chest to ache with a different kind of pain. If only there was an easy way to tell him that this gentle touch only made everything harder for Keith.

“You know I’m the only other person who understands how frustrating it is to relive the same day over and over again,” Shiro continued, “but we have to do this in order to save humanity. I can’t even tell you how many loops I went through in the past. Believe me, I know it takes patience beyond understanding to put up with it, but that’s the thing: patience yields focus.”

“You say that at least once in every loop, just so you know,” Keith bit back, half irritated, half teasing.

“I know it’s a lot to ask of you, Keith, but it’s the only way,” Shiro said. “Stick with me. We can do this. Together. Come back here every loop and I’ll keep training you.”

They stared at each other in silence, eyes intense. Knowing how rare it was for them to be in such close proximity, Keith wanted to stay here under his gaze for just a moment longer, long enough to outlast the entirety of infinite loops put together.

But he knew it wasn’t possible. If only he had met Shiro under different circumstances — namely one where moments like this didn’t have to be forgotten, where war and aliens didn’t plague their world, where he could smile instead and even reach up to touch Shiro’s cheek — perhaps they could have been something more.

But as this reality was the one he got, Keith sighed and pushed Shiro’s hand off his shoulder.

“There’s no need,” he said, turning away and walking towards the door. When he reached the exit, he glanced back at Shiro and gave him a meaningful look. “You already have.”

And with that, he left the room, resigned to face another day of battle.

—

By the time Keith marked his 80th loop on his wrist, there were several things he was well aware of:

  1. ****Every time he watched Shiro die, he didn’t think he could handle seeing it happen again. But he did, and he did, and he did.
  2. Shiro liked sci-fi books, mac and cheese, and smelled like fresh mint.
  3. ****Fresh tea leaves were nearly extinct. Ever since the Robeasts had raided the earth, most of the tea fields on Earth had been destroyed.
  4. ****Shiro missed green tea. A lot.
  5. ****He knew too much about Shiro, but not enough at the same time.
  6. ****No matter how good Keith had gotten in combat, he couldn’t get them off the beach.



How many more failures could he take?

—

_Loop eighty one._

Shiro started teaching Keith how to use a battle axe on top of their tactical meetings. Now that Keith could understand the Robeasts’ movement much better than he could before, he picked it up considerably quickly. Coran gave him an extra battle axe to fight with.

_Loop eighty four._

For some reason, Shiro went off the usual script and invited him to eat dinner together the night before the battle. Keith didn’t know why. It had never happened before.

_Loop eighty five._

They were so close, in every sense of the word. Close to getting off that beach. Close to almost brushing shoulders when they stood next to each other. Close enough for Keith to feel Shiro’s breath in the brief seconds before he released his hold on Keith’s arm.

—

When Keith died on loop eighty six, something new happened.

His mind seemed to be racing at the speed of light, hurtling him forward in a whirl of wind and color. Before he could process the phenomenon, everything began to slow down until a building materialized in his head. The words “Kirin Brewery Sendai” were written upon a sign in the front. Keith only just registered it when the vision shifted and he found himself inside.

Like most places these days, the factory was deserted and derelict. The floor was full of debris and clutter. A row of beer taps lined the wall but some were broken, others rusted.

The image shifted again and the previous room was replaced by a larger one filled with pipes and metal tanks.

And then, Keith saw it. A Robeast unlike any other was pulsing in a dark corner on one of the railings, lying there in wait for the world to end. It was larger and glowing a brighter purple than any other he’d seen and he knew without a doubt that this must be the King of all Robeasts.

—

His left hand was wrapped around the hilt of his dagger.

“Hey, sign this,” came Lance’s voice.

Taking the paper from him, Keith signed his name, shoved it back in Lance’s face, marked the number “87” on his wrist, and bolted out of the room.

“The Emperor beast is at the Kirin Beer Sendai Factory,” Keith told Shiro once they were in Coran’s lab. “Only one problem. We still haven’t made it off that beach.”

“You can—”

“I know,” Keith cut him off. “‘You can do this.’ ‘It’s the only way.’ ‘Patience yields focus.’ You say those things every time.”

Shiro tilted his head in contemplation. “Okay. What do we need to do then?”

Keith stepped up to Coran’s table and activated the digital map, bringing up Sagami Bay to the forefront. He felt more determined than usual. Having this new piece on the Emperor’s location to set as a goal helped immensely.

“We proceed the same as we do every loop,” Keith said, his jaw set. “I’ll fill you in on everything you need to know to survive.”

—

_Loop eighty nine._

They’re close. Compared to previous times, they managed to cut down the enemy force by a significant amount thanks to Keith’s brilliant improvisation of a grenade he found.

_Loop ninety one._

After watching Keith pull off an amazing stunt with the battle axe during a training session, Shiro chuckled and ruffled his hair, a look of pride etched across his features. The gesture sent a jolt of electricity shooting down his spine, and with wide eyes and a small smile, Keith stared up into his laugh, committing this entire moment to memory.

But it was just another interaction Keith wished Shiro could remember.

_Loop ninety four._

Keith stopped wearing his helmet. Shiro was right. The radio was way too distracting.

_Loop ninety seven._

“What now?” Shiro asked.

“I’m not sure,” Keith said as he shot down the final Robeast with his shoulder cannon. It rolled across the surface of a fallen hovercraft before Keith managed to cut it down properly. Once it had been beaten to the ground, he turned towards Shiro with a dazed look in his eyes.

“We’ve never made it this far.”

—

Shiro always came away from the beach battle with a wound in his side, no matter how many times Keith warned him about the Robeast that caused it. It was just one of those things that he couldn’t avoid because there were too many aliens on him at once.

“Don’t worry,” he told Shiro. “When we get to Sakae-ku, we can look in an abandoned house for bandages and supplies. I’ll patch you up.”

“No need,” Shiro said, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s a minor wound. There’s no time. We’ve got to get to the Emperor before it runs away.”

Keith frowned but didn’t argue back. It was pointless anyways, because Shiro always insisted on prioritizing the Emperor beast.

The first time the battle ended, they wandered around looking for the best next step to get to the Emperor. There were so many possible paths they could take but at some point, Keith found one that he was willing to pursue. So this time, after running as far as they could before the battery in their suits wore off, they ditched their armor behind at a park and continued forward on feet.

Side by side, they walked in silence across the wide park, Keith stealing glances at Shiro every other step. He looked pained and tired, but determined to keep going.

“Would you say things were just as difficult for you when you were stuck in these loops?” Keith suddenly asked.

Every time they made this walk, Keith would try and start up a conversation with Shiro. As amiable and kind as Shiro was, he kept a straight head on during the war, never delving too deep about personal details in his life. So eventually, it became a fun experiment for Keith to ask Shiro the same questions and see how far he could get in each loop. (And anyway, it was much closer to the kind of “fun” that Lance described: trying various actions to explore all possible results.)

“Define ‘difficult,’” Shiro said, an edge of humor to his tone.

He said this same thing every time Keith asked. Keith would then use it to branch off into different questions, each time leading into an exchange they’d never had before. Over time, he had gathered quite a number of data points about Shiro to work with, giving him some direction with how to steer the conversations in his favor.

It soon became a game for Keith to see how far he could get without Shiro realizing what was going on.

 

_“I hate watching you die, Shiro,” Keith said, another time. “I know for you, you just met me yesterday, but for me, it’s the most difficult part of this entire thing.”_

_Shiro gave him a warning look that was devoid of emotion._

_“This is war, soldier. Death is unavoidable. I’d advise you to stop asking these questions as it’ll only make matters worse for you. Trust me. I would know.”_

 

Despite Shiro’s warnings, Keith couldn’t help himself. Each new piece of information he gained felt like a breath of fresh air in the smog-filled pit that was war. He knew Shiro was right, but the small moments in between where he got to know Shiro more deeply were rays of sunlight that made trekking through dark and difficult times much, much easier.

This time, Keith decided to pull from the existing pool of intel he had collected in the last few loops.

“Who are Sam and Matt Holt?” he tried, bracing himself for the impending shut down.

Shiro stopped in his track and glared at him.

“How do you know these names?” he asked sharply.

Keith turned to face him, unabashed.

“You mentioned them once,” he replied, keeping his expression impassive.

“There’s no way,” Shiro said. “Under what circumstances would I have mentioned them?”

Keith shrugged, skirting around the question. “You’ve told me a few things here and there. Little things, too. Like your trip to Tokyo when you were just a kid—”

“What? No, I’ve never been—”

“Or how nobody knows your first name anymore. You said it starts with a ‘T’—”

“No, it doesn’t—”

“—but I couldn’t guess what it was. And another time—”

“ _Keith_ ,” he said, his voice stern. “You can’t do this.”

Keith’s mouth was half open but he closed it upon hearing the harshness in Shiro’s tone.

“Why not?” he asked.

“First of all, I relived those days over three hundred times and I do not need to relive them again. Second of all—”

Shiro stopped in his tracks and pinched the bridge of his nose. With a heavy sigh, he looked back at Keith.

“Alright, you know what? You want to know what happened? They died, okay? They were my friends and I had to watch them die, again and again, over three hundred times. Only, the last time… I—” he took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his next words came out shaky and low. “The last time they died, I couldn’t save them.”

Keith watched as the man before him, the supposedly “bloodthirsty killer,” crumpled inwardly. He had a tortured look on his face that sent chills down Keith’s spine. Keith wasn’t sure if he regretted learning this about Shiro or not, but he wished more than anything that he could do something — anything — to ease the pain. He longed to reach out a hand, to touch him, to hold him, to personally tear every Robeast apart limb from limb for what they did to Shiro.

“Shiro, I — I’m sorry.”

“Even though we had a victory at Sakai, I couldn’t face their family. How could I have explained I’ve practiced saving their lives several times only to fail when it really mattered? And what’s more, I think Matt’s sister still resents me.”

Keith furrowed his brows. At the word “sister” he suddenly realized why the name “Holt” sounded so familiar.

The words, _“I heard he was a bloodthirsty killer”_ came echoing back to him.

_…Pidge?_

“They’re not too far off when they call me a ruthless killer,” he said with a hollow laugh. “I as good as killed my friends. And by the end of all those loops, I basically became a monster myself.”

“You’re not,” Keith asserted, taking a step closer. He raised an arm, intending to place a hand on Shiro’s shoulder, but then faltered. He didn’t want to overstep his boundaries, especially considering the vulnerable state Shiro was in.

“I don’t care what you think you’ve been through,” Keith told him, his eyes boring into Shiro’s. “But you have a gentleness inside that neither the war nor the Robeasts can touch.”

Shiro looked down at him, his eyes full of sorrow, and Keith dared to hope.

“This is war, Keith,” Shiro said, taking a step away from him. “If you knew what was good for you, you wouldn’t want to get to know me. What I went through, I wouldn’t wish that sort of suffering and guilt on anyone else. There are already going to be a lot of death and regrets. There’s no need to make it even worse for yourself.”

 _What if I don’t care?_ Keith wanted to say. But Shiro looked like he was done with the matter.

“So do me and the me in all your future loops a favor and never ask me about that again,” he said.

The finality in his tone rang in Keith’s ears, and he nodded his consent.

“Alright. I’m sorry, Sergeant.”

—

Within the next twenty minutes, they reached the residential areas beyond the park. Passing the first row of buildings, Keith led them into one of the abandoned houses lining the street.

“So where’s the aircraft we need?” Shiro asked the moment they arrived on the front lawn.

“Shiro, your wound,” Keith pointed out. He knew it was always around this time that it really started to take a toll on Shiro. As per usual, Shiro held a hand to cover his wound and shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it, it’d be a waste of time,” he said, though he was cringing. With a hiss of pain, he leaned forward and gave the place a quick lookover. “What do we do next?”

“Just let me have a look around while you rest, alright?” Keith suggested.

“You sound unsure,” Shiro noted.

“Let me just try to find some stuff in there so I can patch you up,” he insisted.

“Look, I’m tired, but I want to get to the Emperor Robeast as soon as we can,” Shiro said. “So if this is a dead end, then maybe we should start over.”

He pulled out a pistol and casually pointed it at Keith.

“Whoa, whoa, no, wait!” Keith exclaimed, waving his hands frantically for him to stop that action at once. “Shiro, just—”

He gestured to the front porch.

“Just go sit for a minute. I’ll look for everything we need.”

After making sure that Shiro had settled comfortably into one of the chairs on the porch and was going to stay there, Keith broke into the house and made a beeline for the kitchen. Filling a pot with water, he set it to boil on the stove and began rummaging through all the drawers. The truth was, he knew exactly what he needed and where to find them, having been here before. The problem was getting Shiro to cooperate.

Arms full of first aid kit supplies, Keith stepped back outside and sat down in the chair opposite from Shiro.

“No, Keith,” he said at once. “We’re wasting time. Did you see anything around here that could fly us to—”

He broke off into a fit of coughs, both hands clutching his side.

“You were saying?” Keith said, raising an eyebrow. He held up a roll of bandages before him and gave Shiro a pointed look. “Just let me do this. It won’t take long.”

Unrolling the gauzy linen, Keith got up from his seat and knelt down next to Shiro. With a resigned sigh, Shiro let go of his wound and leaned back into his chair, lifting his shirt as he did so.

“Hold still,” Keith said as he tore a square piece off the roll. “Let me know if I’m hurting you.”

They sat in silence as Keith gently pressed the gauze over the wide gash and held it in place. With the tape in hand, he ripped off the necessary pieces for patching and began his work.

Although he already had several loops to memorize this moment, he was never prepared for the warmth of Shiro’s body nor the slow breathing of his torso rising up and down beneath Keith’s fingers. The Champion had his eyes closed and he looked more peaceful than Keith had ever seen him. He decided right then and there that whatever Shiro had said about not making matters worse for himself, Keith didn’t care. He’d suffer the rest of his life if he had to as long as he could recall the feeling of his hands on Shiro’s skin, smoothing out the tape at the corners — a memory sharpened tenfold with every loop.

“Alright,” Keith said, leaning back to allow Shiro to roll his shirt back down. “We’re good.”

“Thanks.” In spite of the urgency he felt earlier, Shiro’s eyes softened as he looked down at Keith, giving him a wry smile. “Now, did you find anything around here that could—”

He sniffed, suddenly alert. Sitting up in his seat, his eyes darted all over the place as he continued to sniff the air.

“Is that — Is that what I think it is?” he asked, his voice filled with a hope Keith longed to hear again and again for the rest of his life. Placing his hands on the chair’s arms, Shiro started pushing himself up, but Keith stood up at once and urged him to sit back down.

“Allow me,” he said, unable to contain his smile.

Upon walking back inside, Keith grabbed the teapot that had been steeping in the kitchen and the cleanest ceramic cup he could find from the cupboards. He knew it was silly to feel so excited in the midst of war, but he enjoyed this part of the loop too much to stop.

Shiro looked up at the doorway as Keith came back outside. Taking one glance at the items in Keith’s hands, Shiro’s eyes went wide.

“No way,” he breathed, inhaling the scent of green tea leaves. “You didn’t.”

“See for yourself,” Keith said, handing him the cup. “They have a whole ceramic set.”

Taking it into his hands, Shiro held it like a delicate flower and waited patiently as Keith poured the tea. The steam unfurled as it filled the cup, spiraling its aroma into the air. Taking a deep breath, Shiro let out a contented sigh as he brought it to his lips.

“I can’t believe you were able to find fresh tea leaves,” he said with a soft smile. “I haven’t seen any at all in the last three years.”

With a triumphant grin, Keith leaned back and watched as Shiro enjoyed the beverage.

“Mmm,” he hummed after few deep sips. “Reminds me of home.”

“With what I could find here in the kitchen, I did try to make it the way you said your grandmother did,” Keith explained. “Heating the water up in the right amount of time to achieve the right temperature. Pouring in some hot water first, then quickly pouring it out, so as to rinse and expand the tea leaves.”

Shiro blinked, then set the teacup down on the floor as he listened to Keith talk, eyebrows furrowing in suspicion.

“I know I was supposed to steep it for no more than two to three minutes, but with your wound and all, I just made do with what I—”

“How many times have we been here?” Shiro asked under his breath.

“What?” Keith intoned, although he had heard him just fine.

“How many times have we been here?” Shiro repeated, voice raised and firm.

“I—” Keith looked down at his feet. He wasn’t ashamed of drawing out their time like this but he wanted to give Shiro the courtesy of appearing so.

“There’s an abandoned helicopter in the backyard.”

“ _We’re wasting time_ ,” Shiro stressed before getting up to his feet and barging in through the front door.

“Shiro, wait, just listen first—” Keith started as he followed behind, but Shiro was already halfway down the hall. “Shiro!”

Slamming open the back door, Shiro emerged out into the fading sunlight, and there before them, sitting in plain sight, was the aircraft. He turned back to Keith and held out his hand.

“Where are the keys?”

“Okay, we should discuss this before we do anything else because every time we get to this part, you—”

“Where are they?”

With a resigned sigh, Keith pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and placed it in Shiro’s hand.

The door of the aircraft hung crookedly by the hinges. Stepping up onto the landing skid, Shiro fiddled with the metal frame, trying to figure out what exactly to do with the broken piece. He evidently lost his patience within a few seconds because before Keith could stop him, Shiro gripped the door with his prosthetic arm and ripped it clean off the helicopter.

“Shiro, wait,” Keith said as Shiro settled himself into the driver’s seat and inspected the gear shift and control panel. “We’re unarmed right now. We’ve only got that one automatic that we salvaged. There’s gotta be another way.”

“What are you talking about?” Shiro asked, staring back down at him. “Why are you getting all up in arms about this? Just hop on and let’s go.”

“Shiro, just listen for a—”

“Let’s go, Keith. What are you so worried ab—”

“You die, okay?” Keith burst out. “There’s a Robeast hidden somewhere underground a few meters away and if you turn on that thing, it will attack and you’ll die. And even if you don’t, one of us dies. More Robeasts are hidden all over in this area and they come out all at once. I try to stop it from happening every time, but I can’t. This is as far as you make it.”

His sentence ended on a cracked voice. Keith looked imploringly up at Shiro but the Champion remained impassive.

“If I die, then you can continue on and destroy the Emperor Robeast once and for all,” he said, as though this were the most obvious thing in the world. “So let’s go.”

“But if you die, and I go on to kill the Emperor,” Keith croaked. “I can’t bring you back.”

“What does it matter, Keith?” he asked. “This is war. I’m a soldier. I signed up for this.”

Shiro’s words stung; a dull ache spread inside Keith’s chest at the sound of it. There was no arguing with him.

And logically, Keith knew Shiro was right. Destroying the Emperor beast to win the war was the top priority of this job. He knew Shiro was determined to end the fight, to save humanity, to kill the final Robeast that took his arm. Keith knew he wanted the same things, too. He just didn’t want them to happen in a reality where Shiro had to die.

“I just — I wish —” Keith said finally, and every word cost him a great effort. “I wish I didn’t know you so well. But I do.”

Shiro gave him a solemn look, a mixture of pity and deep empathy, and Keith knew he was thinking back to their earlier conversation. _I know you tried to warn me_ , Keith wanted to say, _but it’s too late. I’ve already gone too far._

He never meant for this to happen. He never meant for it to snowball this way. Getting to know Shiro felt so harmless in the beginning but as Keith continued to learn more about the guy, as the snowball began to pick up more and more particles, it achieved a speed and a force too great to stop as it plunged onward into its inevitable crash.

With a slight dip of his head, Shiro lowered his gaze and turned back to the dashboard.

“I’m sorry, Keith,” he said. “But I have to do this.”

And before Keith could say anything else, he inserted the key into the ignition and twisted.

The engine roared to life. As the propellers began to rotate, Keith turned and ran for cover, looking for the only gun they had brought into the house.

An unearthly cry filled the air. Like he knew it would, the Robeast in hiding burst forth from the dirt and launched itself at the helicopter, causing the aircraft to spin dangerously in midair.

“Shiro!” Keith cried out, whipping back around to see the monster latching onto the windshield.

Barging in through the back door, Keith ran into the kitchen and grabbed the gun, but before he could turn back around, he fell and landed on his back beside the stove as the helicopter came tearing through the walls. The Robeast thrashed about, swinging this way and that as it clung tightly to the windshield. Lifting an arm, Keith shot at the alien in spurts, doing his best not to catch Shiro in the crossfire while trying to avoid getting stabbed in the face by the debris flying everywhere.

The engine spluttered and made a crumpling sound as the Robeast dragged the aircraft down to the ground. Keith could tell it was still alive, but barely so. The sound of glass shattering and wood splitting cracked the air as the rotor blades dug into the floor, drilling itself to a slow stop.

Approaching with caution, Keith kept his gun raised as he walked up towards the crash. At the slightest sign of movement of the dark, misshapen figure, he fired at it repeatedly until he was sure it was dead. Then, dropping the automatic, he ran around the fallen helicopter, expecting the worst.

“Shiro!” Keith shouted as he jumped over one of the propeller blades. He spotted Shiro lying amidst a pile of rubble and slowed to a stop at his feet, panting and out of breath. Sinking down to the ground beside him, Keith reached out a hand, fingers gently cupping Shiro’s jaw as he turned the Champion’s head to face him.

He knew without having to look that it was no use. Shiro was going to die again and he was powerless to stop it. Taking Shiro’s human hand, Keith gripped it tightly in his own.

“Shiro?”

He squeezed his hand again.

“Takashi,” Shiro choked out.

“What?” Keith brought Shiro’s hand to his cheek. The warmth was starting to fade from them.

With a soft, shuddering breath, Shiro breathed out his last words.

“My first name… is Takashi.”

As his eyes dimmed and became glassy, Keith let out a shaky exhale and shut his eyes tight. Losing all willpower to continue on in this loop, he leaned his forehead over Shiro’s chest and waited for the rest of the Robeasts to come and kill him.

—

His left hand was wrapped around the hilt of his dagger.

As he slowly regained consciousness, Keith kept his eyes shut, trying to cling on to the memory of his last loop. If he didn’t open them, perhaps he could convince himself just a little longer that the pillow he was lying on was still Shiro’s chest.

“Hey, sign this.”

If only Keith could stay in that short, sweet dream forever.

“Yo, mullethead,” Lance’s voice drilled into his head. “You awake?”

Keith sorely wanted to punch him in the face at the moment. Instead, he threw off his covers and grabbed the form.

“Yikes, someone’s not in a good mood this morning,” Lance noted.

“You wouldn’t be either if you knew you had two and half hours of PT later this morning,” Keith said scathingly, because he knew it would annoy Lance. Scribbling his name on the line, he shoved it back in Lance’s face and marked the number “150” on his wrist.

“Please,” Lance said as he filed the paper away. “As if you know what you’re talking about.”

Keith rolled his eyes. The situation would be hilarious if he hadn’t just witnessed Shiro die for the hundredth time — or whatever number it was now. It would’ve been fun to mess around inside Lance’s head and show him how much Keith knew about the future.

“Well, prepare for disappointment then,” he shot back at Lance. Getting up onto his feet, he threw the pen back on his bed and headed towards the exit.

“Where do you think _you’re_ going?” Lance called out from behind him. Keith stopped at the doorway and spared him a look.

“Back to where I started,” he said, before bolting out of the barracks.

He reached the training room where he always met Shiro for the first time and made a beeline towards him. Having now memorized the movement of the metal claws by heart in this part of the loop, he could walk through it with his eyes closed. As usual, Shiro released himself from the planche position and stood up to meet Keith.

"Who told you to come here?" he asked. "If it's Iverson, he knows not to interrupt my morning sessions."

For the last hundred or so loops, Keith had lived this exact same moment the exact same way almost every single time. As such, the words were there on the tip of his tongue when he approached the Champion.

_"I'm Keith, we meet on the beach tomorrow and I have what you had. We're going to get slaughtered so we need to work together if we want any chance of winning this war."_

But this time, they never made it out of his mouth.

Shiro stood there expectantly with his arms crossed, his chest bare and glistening with perspiration. Keith committed the image to memory. One long look at Shiro was enough for him to make up his mind.

He couldn’t let Shiro die again.

“I’m sorry, Sergeant,” Keith said, bowing his head respectfully. “I didn't mean to bother you.”

Shiro’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion but he stayed silent as Keith backed out of the training court. Then, taking one last glance at the Champion, Keith turned around and walked away.

By the 150th loop, of three things he was sure:

  1. In time, perhaps under Shiro’s influence, Keith had come to claim the duty of world saving for himself. He was in this for the long haul and he truly hoped he could use the borrowed quintessence to save humanity.
  2. If there was any chance at all that Shiro could die and stay dead on his last loop, Keith would do everything in his power to prevent it from happening.
  3. But most of all, Keith knew with absolute certainty that he loved Takashi Shirogane way too much to watch him die another time.



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hello to me on tumblr [@flusteredkeith](https://flusteredkeith.tumblr.com)!


	3. this is how we run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After realizing he had grown way too attached to Shiro, Keith takes matters into his own hands and tries to pursue the Emperor Beast himself.

Keith walked along the streets of Tokyo, the number 198 written on his wrist. It felt like he’d been traveling for years. Ever since he stopped involving Shiro, he wandered aimlessly, feeling both lost and determined. After time and time again of hitting dead ends, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He still wasn’t entirely sure where to go, but he knew it was important that he kept going.

Although it wasn’t news that Earth had been severely overrun by Galran Robeasts, Keith had never fully understood the extent of their reach until his search for the Emperor beast. No matter which way he turned, there wasn’t a single direction he could go without encountering hordes of them hidden beneath the ground. One wrong turn and they would pounce, breaking forth from the dirt with their limbs outstretched until Keith either shot them down or died himself.

At least he was fulfilling Shiro’s mission to die, die, and die again. Then he’d start over once more and try another route.

Whenever he woke up, he was back to the same old routine: signing Lance’s form, doing PT with his squadron, and getting further practice on his own afterwards to rebuild all the muscles he'd lost in each reset. He remained quiet and hardly talked to anyone, shrugging off any and all attempts at conversation started by others. He just wasn't in the mood.

Without Shiro in the loops, several things were different. For one, he couldn’t have Coran give him an axe anymore. He also had to watch Shiro walk by without acknowledging him every time they lined up for battle. But most of all, Keith now had to go through this entire nightmarish ordeal on his own without the comfort, hope, and camaraderie that Shiro had once provided.

Waking up with the knowledge that he may never speak to Shiro again cut through him like a knife. Over the previous hundred or so loops, Shiro had taken up such a significant amount of space in Keith’s life that Keith often found himself at a loss with what to do with the gaping hole that was his absence. He doubted that it would ever heal completely.

“Get me three more clips of 5.56, eight grenades, and an extra battery,” Keith told the guy on duty every time they suited up.

“Where’s your helmet?” he would ask.

“I don’t wear one. It’s distracting.”

It took being apart from Shiro for Keith to realize how right Shiro was about everything. Keith had been so afraid of Shiro dying beyond the loops that he had been holding himself back, staying in the comfort zone of the house with green tea instead of exploring all possible paths to winning the war. (Though, making Shiro happy if even for just a short moment was also a huge motivator.)

So Keith decided to keep his distance completely, not even bothering to find Shiro at the beach. If Shiro didn’t know him anymore, neither should Keith.

It was all for the best. And there would be no holding back anymore.

“How the heck is Keith getting all my kills!” Keith heard Lance exclaim after he swooped in and took down three Robeasts in a row.

“We’re being pummeled to death out here and  _ that’s _ what you’re concerned about?!” Hunk yelled back over the sound of gunfire.

Keith ignored them and kept going. He had to finish the fight on his own.

After several failed attempts, Keith was finally able to make his way to Miyagi Prefecture without any incidents. Although he had found an abandoned red hoverbike in Tokyo that could take him to the factory within four hours, it took a few loops for him to learn which routes to go to avoid a stampede of Robeasts.

By the time he arrived at the Kirin Sendai Factory, the sun had already set. Parking the hoverbike by the sign, he dismounted and approached the building. Unfortunately, by this time, he always had to leave the power suit behind, unable to travel as fast with its bulky weight. To compensate for this, he made sure to save at least three grenades.

_ This is it _ , he thought to himself as he stopped in front of the doors. Everything he and Shiro had been working for led up to this point. If only Shiro could be here to finish the job for himself.

Dread filled his lungs at the thought of Shiro. The fear of not knowing whether he was dead or alive in this loop began to creep up on Keith again. Shutting his eyes tight, he tried to clear his mind.

_ We don’t know each other anymore _ , he told himself.  _ Get a grip. You need to  _ focus _. _

And just like that, unbidden into his mind came the sound of Shiro’s voice, clear and distinct as it echoed loudly in his mind.

_ “Patience yields focus.” _

Screwing up his face, Keith kept his eyes shut as a stinging sensation prickled behind his eyelids. Although Shiro no longer knew who he was, Keith knew he was lying to himself: he would always know who Shiro was. If he made it out of this day alive, to a time where he could finally see tomorrow, Keith was sure he would never forget Shiro for as long as he lived.

He supposed he had better get used it.

Taking a deep breath, he shoved aside any last shred of emotion and pushed the door open.

The cracking of broken glass clinked beneath his boots as he walked. Just like he had seen in his vision, the entire place was a mess. Shards of glass and debris littered the floor and dried blood splattered the concrete walls. There were sections of the ceiling that had caved in and any semblance of what the room might’ve once been was completely lost in the midst of all the rubble.

Keith wandered around the building, trying to piece together from his visions and the current reality where the Emperor beast might be hiding. Keeping his gun at the ready, he walked carefully through the hallways, alert for any sound or inkling that might be a hint to where he ought to go next.

It took traipsing through a few different rooms for him to start seeing anything familiar. When he passed by the shattered remnants of what used to be a large display window, he recognized the view beyond it at once.

It was a large chamber filled with huge steel tanks that once fermented beer. Pipes and walkway railings lined the walls and in between the giant containers. If his vision was anything to go by, the Emperor beast would be here.

Poking his head over the viewing point, Keith looked around the room. No sign of the beast just yet.

There was a gap between him and the metal walkway snaking around the tanks. Fortunately for him, the catwalk extended close enough to where he could feasibly use the section as a landing point. Tightening his grip on his rifle, he took a few steps back and ran forward with a leap. Once he hit solid ground, he rolled into the landing and straightened up.

The walls and floors were damp from the water that had leaked from the pipes and every step Keith took echoed with a soft tap. Keeping his gun at his side, he scanned the area, taking in every inch of the room.

As someone who was about to face  _ the monster to end all monsters _ , Keith expected to feel a lot more dread than he currently had. Although a sense of foreboding had been hanging over him the whole time, there was something off about the quiet dinginess of the factory that confused him. Perhaps it was merely the fact that he had been trying to get here for so long that when he finally arrived, it ended up being very anticlimactic.

Keith slowed to a stop at the far left corner behind the last steel tank where he could match his sight with the quintessence-induced vision exactly. Surveying the scene closely, it clicked in his brain. This was the place he had been shown. 

But where was the Emperor beast?

Something shifted in the corner of his eye. Whipping around at once, Keith held his rifle up.

Two Robeasts were creeping up on him but neither was the Emperor one. Keith backed up, not ready to shoot just yet; he didn’t have enough bullets to waste. If the main priority was taking out the source, he had to be strategic.

But before he could do anything else, one of the limbs came swinging at him. Fortunately, thanks to Shiro, Keith knew the pattern of their movements. He ducked low right as it passed over his head, staggering backwards as he straightened up. There was something different about the way they attacked, as though they were not going in for a direct kill.

One of the aliens shifted and jumped, soaring over Keith’s head to land on his other side so that he was trapped on the narrow walkway.

_ What were they doing? _

The first one swung its limb at him again and Keith fired a few rounds back at it. He had only managed to sink a bullet in its side when the rifle was suddenly knocked out of his hands by the other beast.

“Ouch!”

A stinging pain caught him just under the ribs and he stumbled onto his knees, clutching his side. Lifting his hand, he saw blood.

He looked up to see the two Robeasts hovering over him, watching, waiting, and then he understood.

They were waiting for him to bleed out.

_ No, the world is at stake, and Shiro’s sacrificed way too much for this. _

Reaching back behind for the pistol in his pocket, he drew it out and looped his finger around the trigger, but one of the Robeasts’ limbs slammed into him, sending the gun flying out of his hands.

He couldn’t die outside of the loop. He had to act  _ now _ .

Without another thought, Keith grabbed onto the guard rail beside him and heaved himself up and over until he was falling fast. Hands closing around a fresh grenade in his pocket, he withdrew the safety pin and pulled.

—

His left hand was wrapped around the hilt of his dagger. Keith sat up in bed with a start, mind still reeling from the previous explosion.

“Hey, sign this.”

It hadn’t worked. He had been at the right location, had done everything correctly but — it hadn’t worked.

Grabbing the piece of paper from Lance, he scribbled his name and the number 199 on his wrist before shoving it back and running out the barracks.

“Oi! Where do you think you’re going?” Lance called out after him.

Keith ignored him. There was only one thing on his mind.

He needed to find Shiro again.

—

“The Emperor beast wasn’t there,” Keith told them the moment they were in the confines of Coran’s lab. “I don’t think it ever was.”

“So what happened?” Shiro asked.

“I got the visions you warned me about, but it wasn’t there,” Keith said. “They knew I was coming. There were two Robeasts there instead and they wounded me.”

“You went alone?” Shiro raised a stern eyebrow. “You could’ve bled out the power and died afterwards.”

“Um, yeah,” he replied, avoiding Shiro’s gaze. Keith didn’t really have a good way to explain how his attachment to Shiro constantly held him back without revealing too much of his true feelings for him.

“Look, it’s fine,” Keith continued, trying to smooth out the look of consternation on Shiro’s face. “It’s over already and I’m still alive. They could’ve gone in for the kill but they didn’t. It was a trap. And the visions you got about the Emperor beast before were probably the same.”

“So they must have realized their mistake the first time after we had wounded it,” Shiro said, tapping his chin with his finger, deep in thought. “And this time, the Emperor beast stayed in hiding.”

“They knew who you were,” Coran stated. “If that’s the case, it would appear that they want their power back.”

“That means they’re not going to stop until they take it back,” Shiro said, walking towards the far left corner of Coran’s desk.

“But how are we going to find the Emperor beast?” Keith asked. “We can’t trust any of these visions anymore.”

Shiro stopped in front of the desk and pulled open a drawer.

“There’s one last option we can try,” he said, taking out a black cone-shaped device and holding it up to them.

“Nope! No, no, no, no, nope!” Coran exclaimed, rushing over to Shiro and snagging it out of his hands. “That thing’s not ready. It’s missing a few pieces of equipment needed to run it and, not to mention, the actual quintessence from a live Druid itself!”

“Coran, it’s our only chance,” Shiro reasoned. “It’s gotta be worth a try. What about the prototype you built at Tochō?”

“Tochō?” Coran echoed airily, inspecting his nails. “Oh, you mean the one I got  _ fired _ for?”

“Uh, sorry to interrupt but,” Keith cut in as Coran raised a threatening finger up in Shiro’s face. “What is it?”

“A transponder,” Coran sniffed, straightening up and tucking the device away under his crossed arms. “And it’s not complete and I can’t get it to work so we’ll have to think of something else.”

“How is it  _ supposed _ to work?” Keith asked.

“You stick it into a Druid and it’ll tap into the wavelength connecting it to the Emperor,” Shiro explained. “It’ll be a foolproof way to get a location on the beast. That’s the idea anyway.”

“And it’ll only ever stay an idea because it doesn’t work!” Coran insisted, uncrossing his arms and gesticulating wildly. “It hasn’t ever been tested! The moment my superiors found out, General Ryu gave the immediate approval for my termination. They thought I was crazy!”

“But it’s the only thing we have to go off of right now,” Shiro said. “So I think we should give it a go.”

Stepping forward, he grabbed the transponder straight out of Coran’s unsuspecting hands and turned to Keith.

“Come on,” he nodded. “Let’s get started.”

Keith followed at once. Even though the details were a little hazy, he trusted Shiro and was glad to be taking action alongside him again.

“Shiro, come back!” Coran shouted. “You’ll be arrested for sure!”

But as Shiro ignored him and kept walking towards the exit, Keith did the same.

“Psych ward, remember? Dissection for science! Nobody will believe you!” Coran yelled after them, keeping up a constant stream of warnings all the way up until they reached the door. “General Ryu bends to no one! He’s not going to listen!”

“Aha!” the scientist exclaimed at last as Shiro’s hand found the door’s lever. “The transponder requires a live Druid to work with! Where are you going to get that? I know,  _ ‘You’re right, Coran, why didn’t I think of that sooner?’ _ You’re stuck, it’s a bad idea, I’m sorry, but we can think of something else.”

“What are you talking about, Coran?” Shiro asked, turning back to face him with a smirk. Keith jumped as Shiro clapped a hand on his shoulder and he felt a familiar lurch in his stomach as he looked up at the Champion in surprise.

“We’ve got the next best thing right here.”

—

The first few loops after that were spent studying the inner layout of the government building and discussing tactics on how to steal back Coran’s prototype. Apparently, General Ryu was a strict, no-nonsense man — as most government officials are prone to be — and it would take a miracle to convince him.

“He never believes he’s wrong,” Coran explained. “I told him once that the Robeasts would keep growing in number, that they were adapting to us. He told me to never speak about it again. Even when Shiro came with me as proof that the Robeasts were learning about our attacks, he didn’t believe me. Shiro told me he fired me at once.”

He paused, scratching his chin.

“Actually, according to Shiro, he’s fired me quite a lot of times before finally doing it after Shiro lost the power.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Keith said. “All we need to do is to break into a heavily guarded government official building and try to convince an inconvincible man to hand over the prototype in his security vault.”

“And I’ll be right behind you to shoot you dead in case we need it,” Shiro assured him in what Keith assumed was meant to be a comforting tone.

“That does not make me feel better,” Keith informed him.

“We have to try,” Shiro said. “We’re close. We’re really close.”

And so they headed towards Tokyo. Now that Shiro was back in the picture, the beginning of their next journey reverted back to the same meeting as before.

_ “Who told you to come here? If it’s Iverson, he knows not to interrupt my morning sessions.” _

_ “Hey. I’m Keith and I had what you had. We’ve almost got a location on the Emperor beast but because it set a trap for me once, we now need to break into Tochō and steal Coran’s prototype transponder.” _

_ “Lead the way.” _

As difficult as Coran promised it would be to convince Ryu to hand over the transponder, stealing the prototype from Tochō sounded like a breeze compared to fighting through blood and sweat to get off the beach. They would be working with people rather than monsters and dealing with allies rather than an alien race prepared to take over their world. But by the time they were in the 220th loop, Keith decided he’d rather have another thirty turns on the battlefield.

Not even Shiro, with all of his propriety and calm demeanor, could ever get Ryu to budge on the matter.

“With all due respect, General Ryu,” Shiro would say with a respectful bow of his head. “We just need the transponder and we’ll be out of your way.”

To which the general would stand, stiff and unmoving, and order the guards to arrest them at once.

Keith always put up a fight. He hated seeing Shiro treated like he was merely a bloodthirsty killer who had his mind cracked and scrambled by the war. It wasn’t the truth and it wasn’t fair to him. Every time they failed, Keith would dropkick the security guards before they could lay a hand on Shiro, giving Shiro the opportunity to pull out his pistol and put a bullet in Keith’s chest.

Restart, restart, restart.

“Ready?” he asked Shiro. They were standing just outside of the building’s borders in broad daylight as Coran drove away.

“Whenever you are,” Shiro said. He was wearing a baseball cap in an attempt to hide the obvious white tuft of hair that the general population had come to associate with him. Being so tall, however, he still stood out.

Keith caught his eye and nodded. They walked forward.

“When the Chinese delegation passes us, we need to pick up the pace,” Keith muttered out of the corner of his lips as a man in a suit came out of the front doors.

As they walked past each other, Shiro followed Keith’s lead and began to speed up.

“Oh shit,” Keith whispered as a man turned a corner onto their path at the far end of the hallway.

Grabbing Shiro’s arm, he hurried forward and pulled him over into an empty room before the man could notice.

“That guy always recognizes you,” he explained as they waited for him to pass by. Keith’s arm was pressed up against Shiro’s chest to keep them both as close to the wall as possible. He never meant for it to happen, but he wasn’t complaining.

“Are we clear?” Shiro asked under his breath.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I need to swipe this one guy’s badge. Keep your head down and don’t look at anyone.”

Releasing his hold on the taller man, Keith took Shiro by the wrist and led him back out into the hallway. As they crossed the threshold of the door, Keith bumped into a government official walking the other way.

“Sorry, sir,” he said with a polite bow of his head before quickly turning around and directing Shiro to call down an elevator.

Once the lift clattered down and the doors opened, Keith gently pushed Shiro in and followed behind, tapping the stolen badge to the sensor scanner and punching the 31st floor. With a loud hum, the doors slid shut and they began to ascend.

“What do we do when we get up there?” Shiro asked.

“Well,” Keith said. “He usually makes an exception to see us because it’s you.”

“But what have we tried already? And what should we avoid doing?”

“Uh, so definitely don’t bring up his daughter too early into the game,” Keith said, listing off everything he could think of from memory. “If it’s too soon, he’ll just be too suspicious. But maybe try bringing her up eventually.”

“Noted,” Shiro nodded. “What else?”

“Um, don’t talk about Coran, it’s a sore spot for him,” Keith continued. “The association just didn’t help. Don’t talk about the quintessence in too much depth with him, he doesn’t like being wrong. Oh, and don’t crush his desk with your prosthetic arm. I know it wasn’t intentional but just don’t do anything that’ll alarm him too much. Last time, it ended with me accidentally punching him in the face.”

“Okay — wait, what?”

Shiro shot him a confused look, to which Keith turned away at once, staring down at his feet.

“He insulted your hair and your scar,” Keith mumbled with a side glance at Shiro. “Said that all of it was proof you’d gone crazy from the war. I just had to.”

Shiro struggled with himself for a moment, looking as though he was not sure whether to laugh or to scold Keith.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Keith said, eyes shifting back down to his feet. “I shot myself to reset the day after realizing my grave mistake.”

He didn’t know what reaction to expect from Shiro, but when a soft, light chuckle reached his ears, Keith couldn’t help but smile to himself.

 

“Well. This is it,” Shiro said as the elevator passed the 30th floor. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Keith said.

At the  _ ding _ , the doors slid open and they walked out into a long hallway.

Two guards stood watch at both sides of the door to the general’s office. Slowing to stop in front of them, Keith and Shiro straightened up and bowed their heads before them.

“I’m Sergeant Shirogane,” Shiro stated. “Here with Private Kogane to see General Ryu.”

“The General is busy at the moment,” one of them said.

“We know, but—” Keith cut off the moment he saw a look from Shiro.

“Please, sir,” Shiro tried, keeping his voice kind and level. “It could be a matter of life or death.”

“I will check with him first,” the other guard informed them. Turning around, he pulled open the door and entered the room, letting it swing shut behind him.

They glanced at each other as they waited, each checking the other to make sure they were doing okay. Eventually, the doors opened again and the guard came back out.

“You may enter,” he said with a bow of his head.

They walked into the spacious room of the general’s office. The wide window panes provided a clear view of the city and sunlight was streaming in. The moment General Ryu stood up, Keith snapped into a salute and, like always, hoped it would be the last time he’d have to do that.

“Sergeant Shirogane,” General Ryu said as he held out his hand. “My most decorated soldier.”

Taking his hand and shaking it, Shiro nodded back at him.

“Good afternoon, general.”

“So my guard out there tells me you came here on a matter of life or death?” he asked, gesturing them to sit in the two chairs at his desk.

“Yes, General,” Shiro said, taking a seat while Keith slipped into the one next to him. “We believe we have some information that could be vital to defeating the Galran Robeasts.”

“That’s a very bold thing to say,” he responded. “I’m listening.”

“First, you must understand that the Robeasts function as a single organism. There’s only one Robeast we need to kill if we want to win this war,” Shiro explained.

At that moment, the phone rang. Both Shiro and General Ryu turned to look at it in alarm but Keith, who was unphased, reached over and picked it up.

“Tell General Beauregard that you’ll call him back later,” he told the general.

“Keith,” Shiro said in a warning tone.

Keith gave him a sharp look, urging Shiro to trust him.

The general gave Keith a suspicious glance before taking the receiver from him and answering.

“Hello? …yes… General Beauregard?” Ryu side-eyed Keith again. “Yes I have some company at the moment. I'll call you back later.”

He hung up the phone and turned to Keith.

“What’s your deal?”

“Tomorrow’s invasion will be a slaughterhouse,” Keith said without preamble. “They know we’re coming. We have to stop them.”

“How do you know this?” he asked.

“You might find this hard to believe but please hear me out,” Keith said. “I die tomorrow. So will Sergeant Shirogane and all the other soldiers that are sent to fight. Before I died, I killed a Robeast that was different from the others. It passed something onto me, into my bloodstream, and I now relive the same day over and over again.”

The general’s eyes were growing narrower with every word but Keith plunged on. Ryu always acted that way.

“It happened once to Sergeant Shirogane too, at Sakai, and we would’ve all been slaughtered if it weren’t for him,” Keith continued. “The Robeasts, however, already have that power. That’s how they can predict our every move. That’s how they’ve been winning. That’s how I know that your secretary is about to step in about five seconds to tell you that your dinner tonight at Kozue has been cancelled.”

Right on cue, the doors opened and a woman in a blouse and pencil skirt stepped in.

“Oh, sorry, general,” she said. “I thought you were alone.”

“And her name’s Aiko,” Keith said.

Aiko gave Keith a confused look but turned back to the general.

“Your daughter just called,” she told him. “She can’t make dinner today.”

“Thanks, Aiko,” Ryu replied. “Could you reschedule the reservation for—”

“This Saturday at seven o'clock,” Keith finished for him.

The general looked back at Keith.

“Yes — that.”

“Alright, I will reschedule your dinner for Saturday at seven o’clock,” she said with a slight bow of her head before exiting the room.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” Keith continued, as though there had been no interruption. “But the enemy can manipulate time. Our invasion will fail and the only way to win this war is to find the power source of the Robeast horde and kill it. And… the only means of finding it is in that safe right behind you.”

All three of them shifted their eyes onto the built-in lock box in the wall.

Ryu’s face remained impassive as he turned back to survey Keith. If the previous loops were anything to go by, Keith was sure he wasn’t fully buying the story.

“This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation,” Keith said. “I’ve seen firsthand how many Robeasts are hidden throughout the country. They intend to break through the battlefields and overrun Tokyo after the beach battle tomorrow. If you don’t give us the transponder, we’ll lose everything.”

Keith looked back to Shiro and nodded. Sitting up in his seat, Shiro opened his mouth to speak.

“You can throw every soldier and able body you want at these aliens but it won’t make a difference,” Shiro said. “And eventually, it won’t just be these nameless faces that’ll die in this war. Private Kogane is right. Once they make it past the battlefield, the Robeasts will soon conquer everything.”

The general remained silent, contemplating.

“Please, general,” Shiro implored. “Think about your family, about your daughter. Wouldn’t you want to do all you can as the general to keep them safe?”

Keith sat back and waited with bated breath. This was, by far, the smoothest conversation they’d ever had with General Ryu. Most likely, he still didn’t believe them. But on the other hand, things usually went much, much worse.

“So say I give you this transponder,” Ryu began. “Dr. Coran said once that you need a live Robeast to use this on. So what use would it be to you?”

Keith and Shiro exchanged glances, then turned back to face the general.

“Don’t worry,” Shiro said. “We’ve got that part figured out.”

“Sir, please,” Keith added. “What would you do if you believed everything we just said?”

Ryu looked back and forth between the two, considering the question.

“I think I would locate the power source you mentioned,” he said, “and bomb it out of existence.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Keith replied. “You aren’t mentally equipped to fight this thing.”

Shiro blinked and tightened his lips, but otherwise showed no outward sign that he thought Keith had said something out of line.

Ryu let out a long exhale through his nose, then swiveled around in his chair to face the safe. Keith and Shiro looked at one another in mild surprise as the sound of a lock turning reached their ears.

With a loud click and a pop, the general pulled open the safe. When he turned his chair back around to face them, a small black box was sitting in his lap.

Not wanting to appear too eager, both Keith and Shiro sat back patiently and waited for him to hand it over.

“You’re a good soldier, Sergeant Shirogane,” he said, slowly holding it out to him. “I would hate to be wrong about you.”

“We won’t let you down, General,” Shiro said with a bow. Reaching out, he took the box from him and stood up. “Thank you for your time.”

And with that, Keith and Shiro walked out of his office.

“Now what?” Shiro whispered once they were out of earshot in the hallway.

“I don’t know,” Keith responded. “We’ve never gotten this far.”

The sound of feet shuffling started behind them. Turning his head to peek over his shoulder, Keith saw the guards walking towards them and Ryu standing in the middle of the open doors.

“Shiro, we gotta go.”

Grabbing his prosthetic arm, Keith took off in a sprint towards the elevators.

“Down!” one of the guards called out. “Stop right there! Don’t move!”

Keith jabbed the button to call the lift and whipped around with the pistol in his pocket. They had made it too far this time to be thwarted again.

“Drop the weapon!” they said, pulling out guns of their own.

The elevator door slid open and Shiro and Keith backed into it at once.

“Don’t move!”

With one hand still holding the pistol, Keith punched the floor for the basement parking lot as the guards began running towards them.

“Come on, come on, come  _ on _ ,” he urged, smashing the button repeatedly.

And finally, right as the guards were about jump onto the elevator with them, the doors slid shut and the sound of bodies slamming into solid metal echoed on the other side.

“So what do we do now?” Keith demanded as the lift clanked down. “We’re headed to the basement level  — _ I’ve never had to get out of here before _ .”

“Okay, Keith,” Shiro said in an even voice. “Just stay calm.”

Keith let out a groan of frustration. “Of course he never fully trusted us. We’re so close, we have to use the transponder  _ now _ !”

“I said stay calm!” Shiro said firmly. Keith took a deep breath and exhaled. He could see the wheels turning in Shiro’s head. “Okay. Here’s what we’ll do. Once we reach the parking lot, we make a run for it. We’ve got to get out of here by any means we can and at the earliest opportunity, stick that transponder in your leg at once, do you copy?”

“Understood,” he said, eyeing the number display falling down past the second floor.

“Ready?” Shiro asked, handing him the box.

Keith nodded and took it from him, readying his stance to pounce.

“Then let’s do this.”

With a  _ ding _ , the doors slid open and the two of them leapt out at once, falling right into a fast sprint across the concrete floors of the garage.

“Over there!” Keith pointed. Up ahead, a man in a suit was getting out of his black Mitsubishi.

“Go around the other side, I’ll drive!” Shiro yelled back as he made his way towards the driver’s side. Grabbing the man’s keys, Shiro pushed him out of his way and got into the front seat.

“Stop! That’s my car!” he yelled. “Security!”

Keith had just managed to slam the door shut on the passenger side when Shiro stuck the key into the ignition and turned. The engine roared into life as the man pounded on the windows, shouting louder and louder for them to stop.

“Just stick that thing in your leg!” Shiro commanded as he pulled out of the spot. “They’ll be on our tail before we know it.”

The sound of an alarm blaring reached them from outside the car as Keith fumbled with the latch. Prying it open, he found a similar cone-shaped metal device to the one in Coran’s lab along with a few other pieces, one of which was shaped like a five-legged claw.

“Uh, Shiro? Did Coran ever tell us how to put this thing together?”

“Can’t help right now,” Shiro said as he rammed straight through the barrier gate operator. One by one, a line of huge army trucks began clustering behind them. “You can figure this out, Keith, I know you can.”

“Okay, here goes,” Keith said nervously.

“Do hurry,” Shiro urged. “I don’t know how long I can hold up this chase.”

“Alright, no pressure or anything,” Keith shot back. He picked up the pieces and began trying them out, attempting to fit them together with what seemed to make the most sense. Fortunately, it turned out to be much simpler than he had expected.

“Okay, now, uh, stick it in my leg?” Keith asked, looking down at his lap, unsure of which point along his thigh would work the best.

“Keith, just do it!” Shiro yelled as he swerved right to drive down a different street.

“Okay, okay!”

Shutting his eyes tight, he held the transponder high above his left leg and punched it down into his flesh. With a cry of pain, the sunlight from outside disappearing before his eyes, plunging him into darkness.

_ “What do you see?” _

Shiro’s voice seemed to come to him from a long distance. Keith tried to blink as his eyes adjusted. It took a few moments for him to realize he was somewhere deep in his own mind, except… the place didn’t feel like his mind. Dark purple colors were whirling around him like nerve endings jumping from synapse to synapse. His consciousness was traveling in a foreign world.

And then, a familiar, ornate gate appeared. Keith barely had time to register the vision before it dissolved and transported him inside until he saw a gold building surrounded by water.

_ “Keith?” _

Again, Shiro’s voice seemed to echo out to him from a distance. Unsure if Shiro could hear him or not, Keith began to speak.

“I think it just showed me the Kyoto Imperial Palace,” he said, hoping the words made it out of his mouth out loud.

_ “Where? Where is it?” _

“I’m at the Golden Temple,” he said. The vision shifted, taking him beneath the surface of the lake. “I think it’s… it’s…”

Something was glowing dark purple at the bottom of the lake. A Robeast fat and pulsing, larger than any other Keith has ever seen.

“It’s under the lake. It’s in Kyoto,” Keith said. “Shiro, we’ve got to get there. How do we get there? Shiro? Shiro! Are you there?”

With a sound of a plug being pulled at the bottom of a sink, Keith felt a sudden sharp pain in his head as he was ripped away from the visions. The brightness from the sun blinded him as he resurfaced and found himself back inside the car, breathing hard. Shiro’s hand was on his; he had just pulled the transponder away from Keith.

“Keith, Keith. I'm here,” Shiro said. He was still driving at top speed, trying his best to outrun the trucks behind them. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Keith panted, his heart racing fast. “What do we do now?”

“Reset,” Shiro said, and he reached down for his back pocket to pull out a pistol.

Training the gun on Keith, he moved his finger towards the trigger, but before he could do anything else, a loud  _ pop! _ exploded and the car gave a violent shudder, causing the gun to be knocked out of his hand.

“They took out one of our tires!” Keith said, looking back out the car window behind them.

“Keith —  _ reset _ !” Shiro shouted. Keith fumbled frantically for his own gun while Shiro’s hand continued to pat around for his.

“Got it,” Shiro said as he held the pistol up towards Keith.

“Shiro! Look out!” Keith yelled.

Shiro’s eyes snapped back onto the road and paled. In the brief second that he had looked away, he had turned onto a street ending in a solid brick wall. The tires screeched as he slammed on the brakes, skidding and swerving.

But it wasn’t enough.

With a violent lurch in his stomach, Keith threw his arms up over his face. The windows shattered around them as they collided. The seatbelt burned into his neck as pain pierced him everywhere along his arms and ribs. The back of his skull slammed into the headrest and stars exploded behind his eyes.

Finally, an airbag blew up in his face. And all was still. Too still.

“S-Shiro?”

No answer.

Keith could feel himself losing consciousness. But he had to know.

He pushed the airbag away from his face and tried again.

“Shiro!”

His eyes were starting to slip shut. Through his blurred vision, he caught sight of Shiro, his head resting against the steering wheel, unmoving.

_ No… he can't be… _

Keith slumped forward against the tightened seat belt and passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hello to me on tumblr [@flusteredkeith](https://flusteredkeith.tumblr.com)!


	4. until tomorrow comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final run.

The first thing Keith registered was the distant sound of metal clinking together. His head was hazy and his body sore. He made to lift his hand so he could massage his temple but found that he was stuck. Something tight had his arms bound to his sides.

He screwed up his face; his eyelids felt incredibly heavy.

With a great amount of effort, he creaked open his eyes.

The lights were bright and sterile above him. The ceiling was white and low. Keith blinked a few times, willing his surroundings to come into sharper focus. He couldn’t explain it, but something inside his entire being was different. Perhaps it was just the aftershock of a car crash, but he felt almost as though his life force had been thoroughly drained.

Shaking his head to clear it, Keith stared up at the ceiling again. A thin metal bar beside his shoulder extended above him, holding four giant bags of —

_ Shit. This can’t be happening. _

“S-Shiro?”

Keith twisted and squirmed against the bindings strapping him down to his bed. He’d only just noticed he was covered in bandages. The clinking of metal pieces still resounded somewhere to the right of him. Turning his head in the direction of the noise, he saw a Japanese nurse tinkering with something on a tray.

“What happened?” he demanded. “What did you do?”

“You’ll be fine,” she said curtly. “You just needed some blood.”

“No!” Keith looked back up at the blood bags as dread filled his stomach, his worst fears confirmed. “You don’t know what you’ve just done. You don’t — You didn’t — Tell me you didn’t—”

“Stay calm,” she chided. “It’ll be alright.”

“No, it won’t!” Keith shouted. “There was someone else with me. Tell me you know where he is.”

“I — I can’t talk to you,” she stammered, looking away and taking a few steps back. “I’m not supposed to talk—”

“Just tell me he’s alive,” Keith begged. “That’s all I need to know. Tell me he’s alive!”

“I’m sorry,” she said before backing out of the room.

Keith let out a roar of frustration as he continued to squirm against the straps. He wanted to punch or kick something but neither option was likely.

As he struggled to release himself, he noticed that the cot he was lying on was moving with him. Shutting his eyes tight, he took a deep breath and with one violent jerk of his body, flipped himself over along with the cot.

The bindings fell away as he rolled along with the beddings. Untangling himself from the mess of straps, he straightened up, yanked off the IV tubes connected to his wrists, and bolted out of the room.

_ Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead _ , he thought repeatedly in his head as he sprinted down the corridors. They had come way too far together for a stupid mistake like this to kill Shiro. He couldn't believe it. He refused to believe it. They had a mission to accomplish and…

And Keith loved him too much.

So far, all of the rooms he’d passed had been empty or filled with other patients. He turned a corner and continued down another hallway. Passing a clock, he glanced at it.

8:23 PM.

So he had been out for a little over five hours. In about ten more hours, they would be suiting up to go into battle at the beach. If he could no longer reset the day, what the hell were they supposed to do now? What was  _ he _ supposed to do, if Shiro was…

He pushed the thought away and kept running.

Another turn was coming up at the end of the hallway. In his haste to cut the corner, he slammed straight into something solid and fell backwards, landing on his ass. He heard feet scuffling and prayed he hadn’t knocked into anyone who’d take him into detainment.

“Keith?”

His eyes shot open and he looked up.

There, alive and well, stood Takashi Shirogane.

“Shiro!” he exclaimed, scrambling back up to his feet. Such an intense wave of relief surged through him that for a moment, he felt lightheaded, swaying precariously.

Reaching out his human hand, Shiro caught him easily by the arm to steady him. And, before could fully think about what he was doing, he pulled Shiro in and wrapped his arms around him.

“I thought you were dead,” Keith said in a cracked voice, tucking his head into Shiro’s neck. His fingers tightened around Shiro’s vest as he held him. He wanted to stay here like this forever.

“Not yet,” Shiro said, giving him a polite pat on the back. The formality of it seemed to ground Keith. Shiro had just met him today.

Letting go at once, he backed away and gave Shiro some space.

“I’m sorry, I — I just reacted, I—”

“It’s fine,” Shiro said calmly, giving Keith that familiar sad look. “I understand.”

Keith gave an awkward nod and shifted his eyes down to his feet.

“So, uh, what do we do now?” he asked.

“Oh, right,” Shiro said, his voice snapping back to a business-like tone. He took out his pistol, cocked it, and pointed it at Keith. “We should probably restart.”

“No-no-no! Stop!” Keith threw his hands up, alarmed. “I lost it, Shiro. I lost the power. I woke up with four blood bags hooked up to me and I can feel it. It’s gone. I can’t — I can’t reset the day anymore.”

Shiro brought his arm down and their eyes met in an intense gaze. They both knew this was it.

“Alright, minor change of plans, but we’ll manage,” he said, recovering quickly. “But it means the Emperor has regained control of the power. We need to kill it before the invasion tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Keith agreed, thinking fast. “It’s in Kyoto so we’ll need to fly there.”

“We need more soldiers, too,” Shiro said. Tilting his head up to look at the ceiling, he rubbed his chin in concentration.

“Who’s crazy enough to follow us there?”

Keith’s mind was in overdrive, jumping from idea to idea in desperation for the best possible solution.

And then it hit him.

“I think I know just the right people,” Keith said with a smirk.

—

Keith leaned against the wall of his barracks, having just gotten back onto the base several minutes ago. He checked his watch.

20:57.

They should be appearing any minute now.

Sure enough, within the next few seconds, Keith thought he could hear the distant sound of Lance’s loud laugh and Hunk’s chatter.

“...you should've seen the look on his face when he thought the booze was gone.”

“I don't blame him. I would've done the same thing — Oh. Hey, mullethead,” Lance said when they finally reached Keith. “You coming to the party? We need to grab a few things before leaving but we’re running a bit late so you better make up your mind quick.”

“Sorry, party’s cancelled,” Keith said, pushing himself away from the wall. “None of us are going tonight. There’s something much more important that we have to do instead.”

“Pfft, sure, whatever, Keith,” Lance said with a roll of his eyes. “Are you hearing this guy? Thinks he can stop me from living it up. I only asked ‘cause I was being nice.”

“What’s going on?” Hunk asked. He was eyeing Keith with concern, most likely having picked up on the severity of his expression.

“The fate of humanity is in our hands,” Keith said. “We have the chance to end the war before the night ends. I need your help.”

“Keith, are you feeling alright?” Allura asked, her brows furrowed. “What are you saying?”

“Have you ever heard of someone reliving the same day over and over again?” Keith posed.

“Like Groundhog’s Day?” Lance quipped.

“What is it with you and that movie?” Keith said, before remembering Lance had never had this conversation before.

“What do you mean? You’re the one who basically described it,” Lance pointed out.

“Never mind,” Keith grumbled as Pidge opened her mouth to speak.

“Or maybe you mean time travel?”

“No,” he said. He did not want to get into  _ that _ discussion again. “Not time travel. Look — I know this sounds crazy, but I die tomorrow on the beach. Alien quintessence gets into my veins and I wake up starting this morning again and again, every time I die. The battle on the beach tomorrow is going to be a slaughterhouse. They know we’re coming and they’re going to kill us all.”

“I’m not following,” Lance said, looking suspicious. “Some alien voodoo gets into your blood and you’re resetting the day?”

“Yup,” Keith nodded.

Lance narrowed his eyes. “Okay, you don’t seriously think we’d believe that, do you?”

“You have a dog at home named Blue and you dated someone in high school named Emma,” Keith listed off. Turning to Pidge, he continued, “And you had a brother named Matt Holt.”

“What!” she exclaimed. “How did you—?”

“And you,” he turned to Allura. “Your father General Alfor from the British forces died in combat against the Robeasts before you transferred over here.”

“Keith — wait, what? Where did you get that information?”

“And you,” he turned to Hunk. “You have a girl back home named Shay and you write to her all the time.”

“That’s not really a secret,” Hunk said.

“You’re also allergic to mangos and you feel bad about it because it’s in your mom’s favorite dish.”

“Okay, that is a very weirdly specific piece of information you know about me that I never talk about — how do you know about that?” Hunk demanded.

“How do you know all of this?” Pidge asked. “Do you have concrete proof that this… alien quintessence you speak of has actually affected you this way?”

“Yes,” Keith said. “Well, actually…”

He turned back to Allura.

“Your uncle Coran knows a lot about it. He helped explain everything to me.”

“What?” she asked, alarmed. “That’s impossible! He got demoted to a lab analyst here at the base.”

“That’s… actually the reason he got demoted,” Keith said. “They didn’t believe him.”

“He’s never told me this,” she said, looking shocked.

“You’re upsetting Allura!” Lance accused defensively.

“It’s the truth!” Keith shouted back.

“But why would he tell you and not me?” Allura asked.

“I’m sorry,” Keith said. “I don’t know why he never told you, but it’s the truth.”

“Okay, so then… why are you telling us?” Pidge inquired.

“Because I need your help,” Keith said. “There’s only one way to defeat all the Robeasts, and it’s this Emperor beast that controls that power. It can reset the day. I seized control of the power for a time, but now that I’ve lost it, it’s got it back. So if we don’t kill it now, we may never get another shot. The chances are slim, but whether we win or die, we’ll go as heroes.”

“Okay, I always thought you were maybe a little crazy,” Lance said, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. “But this just confirms it. First of all, nobody believes you. Second of all, there ain’t no way in hell you’re getting me to go into battle tonight when the party’s already started. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to—”

“I don’t care if you believe me or not, but I’m telling the truth,” Keith said, jabbing Lance in the chest with his finger. “If you don’t want to believe me, that’s fine. But it’s not going to stop the Robeasts from destroying the world. If we don’t wipe them out tonight, we lose all chance of doing it tomorrow and for the rest of our days to come.”

“Look, I hate to say this,” Hunk said with a side-eye at Lance. “But I think Keith knows what he’s talking about. I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve got a feeling this is the right thing to do.”

“Hunk’s usually right about stuff like this,” Pidge affirmed. “And Keith’s story, while hard to believe, actually lacks logical inconsistency. I’m with him.”

“I… I don’t want to believe that my uncle would ever keep something like this from me,” Allura admitted. “But on the other hand, he  _ has _ been rather overprotective ever since my father died. No matter what, I know Coran’s a brilliant man. If this is the sort of scientific undertaking he has been working with, I would not hesitate to believe your story, Keith.”

“Really?” Lance asked. “We’re like twenty minutes late to the party now. Look, whether or not Keith is telling the truth, answer me this: why would I follow him into battle, especially one that sounds like a  _ suicide mission _ — hello, my people? — on a crazy whim the night before an invasion?”

“Maybe you won’t follow me,” Keith said, directing their attention to the bunks. “But I expect you to follow him.”

Getting up from his seat on Keith’s bed, Shiro walked forward and stepped into the light: the Champion standing tall before their very eyes. Keith smirked as Lance’s face transitioned from confusion to disbelief, then finally, to shock and awe — all within the blink of a second.

“S-Sergeant Shirogane?  _ THE  _ Champion of Sakai?” Lance squawked, his voice going higher and higher in pitch with every word.

“I know it’s a lot to ask of all of you,” Shiro said. “But the fate of the earth resides in our hands.”

“Your  _ blood-soaked _ hands, you mean?” Pidge snapped. There was venom in her tone and mistrust in her eyes.

Shiro looked away from her and turned to Keith, who gave him a nod of encouragement. Although Keith had promised to never mention the Holts again, he had broken it on the way back to the base. Shock and anger fell away to solemn understanding as Shiro listened to Keith talk about Pidge.

_ “I know it’s something you don’t ever want to dwell on anymore, but this could be your chance to make it right with Katie.” _

Closing his eyes, Shiro had thanked Keith for the concern and nodded.

“Katie,” he said. “I know you don’t trust me, and you probably even hate me, but please, let me explain.”

“Explain how you left my brother and father to die so you could have all the glory?” Pidge scoffed. “Don’t bother.”

“ _ That’s _ the story you heard?” Keith interjected.

With clenched fists, he made to step forward at Pidge but Shiro put out an arm and stopped him. Keith looked at Shiro, who shook his head at him, and understood that to mean he was not to interfere.

Closing his jaw, Keith consented and hung back.

“Katie,” Shiro tried again. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but please believe me when I say I would never, ever have deserted my friends. Their deaths happened on my watch — and I do take full responsibility for it — but I have never regretted anything in my life more than what happened at the end of Sakai. I’m…  _ really _ sorry for your loss.”

Pidge’s lip trembled as she stared up at Shiro, but she said nothing.

“If you decide you still hate me, I understand,” Shiro said. “But the only way to prevent more great people like them dying is getting rid of the final Robeast tonight once and for all. So please. If you don’t want to come because of me, then don’t. Come because of them. Come because we don’t need to lose anymore Matt’s or Commander Holt’s. Come because your father and brother would be so proud of the soldier you’ve become.”

Keith observed as Pidge’s face shifted through a variety of emotions ranging from doubt to hope, then back to doubt again. Finally, after a few seconds of struggle, she nodded her acceptance of Shiro’s words and opened her mouth to speak.

“Thank you for saying that, Sergeant,” she said. “I think I need some time to process this. You sound sincere, and I really hope you are, but I need some time.”

“Of course,” Shiro said. Keith could tell by his look of relief that it was a better response than Shiro could’ve ever hoped for. “Take all the time you need.”

“Which we may not have a lot of,” Keith blurted out. Shiro shot him a  _ Really? _ look, to which Keith returned with a  _ What?-it’s-the-truth! _ shrug. Noticing their exchange, Pidge rolled her eyes and spoke again.

“Relax, Keith,” she said. “I’m still coming to fight. I already decided that.”

“Me too,” Hunk and Allura said together.

Lance looked around at all of them, then sighed in defeat.

“Alright, then” he said, recomposing his face into a big grin. “Let’s go down swinging.”

“Stop!” someone exclaimed from the door to the barracks. Everyone looked up at once, alarmed. As the figure entered the room, Keith saw that it was a very disheveled and out of breath Coran.

“Coran?” Allura asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I came as fast as I could the moment I saw your text, Shiro!” Coran panted. “And I was right to do so! On no account are you to take Allura with you. It’s too dangerous!”

“Coran,” Allura said in a stern voice. “I know what I’m getting into. I signed up to be a soldier.”

“And I don’t regret trying to stop you the first time,” Coran sniffed. “I’m sorry for not telling you everything before this but you’re the last family I have, Allura. I don’t want to lose you too.”

“I know, I don’t want to lose you either,” Allura said, walking up to him. “But if we want to prevent others from losing their family, I have to do something if it’s in my power to.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” he sighed. “I know I have to let you go, but I had to see you beforehand just in case.”

“Thank you, Coran,” she said.

She pulled him into a hug as the others waited, not wanting to intrude on their family moment. When they eventually broke apart, Coran sniffed again.

“Your father would be proud of the woman you’ve become,” he told her. “Just… be careful out there.”

“We will, Coran,” Shiro promised. “Thank you for all your help. We couldn’t have come this close to defeating the Robeasts without you.”

“Are we all ready to go?” Shiro asked. Everyone nodded.

“Wait, one more thing,” Keith said before turning to Coran. “Could I get a spare battle axe?”

It was strange, but Keith had really missed fighting with it.

Shiro looked at him, impressed. “You began to prefer the axe, too? At what point?”

“I don’t know, like loop eighty-something?” Keith replied. He flashed Shiro a small smile. “You’ve taught me a lot of things, Shiro.”

Shiro returned his smile and nodded at Coran.

“Get him the axe,” he said. “And everyone else — let’s suit up!”

—

The whirring of rotor blades beat a loud and constant rhythm as they sat in the dark en route to Kyoto. It wasn't a very long ride but there was still a subdued mood that had settled in around them. All of them were aware of the risks.

A wide variety of guns and grenades littered one corner of the dropship. They grabbed everything they needed and more. Keith felt the weight of the world on their shoulders as they sat together in the quiet night, gearing themselves up for the inevitable.

Of course, Lance was the one to break through the somber silence.

“So like, if we make it out of this alive… are we going to have some sort of heroes’ procession?” he asked.

“We’re not doing this for glory, Lance,” Keith deadpanned. “We’re doing this for the fate of humanity.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Lance dismissed with a wave of his hand. “But still. The two can go hand in hand, can't they?”

“Once again, Lance,” Hunk said. “I'm starting to get really nervous and this isn't helping.”

“We may not make it out of this alive,” Shiro said. “Period.”

_ Not if I can help it,  _ Keith thought with a frown as he looked at Shiro.

At those words, Lance’s smile faded and was replaced by a determined expression.

“Coming up on the Palace,” Allura called out from the helm. “Ready, soldiers?”

“I was  _ born _ ready!” Lance said, although he looked paler than usual.

Pidge said nothing, but her jaw was set.

“Oh, God, it’s happening, it’s happening,” Hunk panicked. “I can’t believe we’re doing this, we’re actually doing this. We’re all crazy, why are we all so crazy?”

“Alright, guys, let’s stay calm,” Shiro said. “We’re all a little scared to be here, but we made it. Whatever led us individually to this place brought us here for a reason. So whatever reservations we may have, let’s set them aside and fight. Tonight, we are one team and one mind, just like the Robeasts. We can defeat them if we work together. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” Lance, Hunk, and Pidge said.

“Then let’s grab our weapons and prepare for battle,” Shiro commanded.

While everyone dispersed to hook up the weapons needed to their powersuits, Shiro walked up to Keith with both battle axes in hand and a reload strap with five grenades attached.

“Keith,” Shiro said, holding out the spare axe to him. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” he said, staring intently into Shiro’s eyes. Everything they had gone through led up to this. “You?”

Shiro nodded, then looped his arm through the reload strap until all five grenades rested over his chest.

“I'm ready to finally take out this thing.”

_ And then maybe,  _ when it was all over, Keith could finally ask him out on a date.

Probably go on a hunt for tea leaves. He could work out the details later.

“You're gonna make it,” Keith said, his eyes blazing. Perhaps it was a combination of facing uncertain death together and being in such close proximity, but a searing flame seemed to have ignited inside Keith’s chest, glowing brighter and brighter as Shiro returned the gaze with equal intensity.

And, just when Keith thought he could no longer contain his feelings, Shiro reached out and placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder, causing fireworks to erupt in the pit of his stomach.

“Thank you for getting me here, Keith.”

Keith longed to curl into his touch, but resisted.

“The pleasure was all mine,” Keith replied. Then, tightening his lips, he added, “But don’t thank me just yet.”

Shiro gave him a thin-lipped smile.

Without taking his eyes off of Keith, he called out, “Allura, how are we looking right now?”

“I’m going to land a little bit beyond the outer walls!” she answered. “Right inside the palace borders!”

“Whatever happens tonight, soldiers,” Shiro said, addressing them all, “it’s been an honor fighting with you.”

The rest of them saluted as Allura hovered inches above the ground just before the touchdown. Guns and weapons at the ready, they stood by the exit, waiting for Allura to fully land the aircraft.

The night fell quiet as the sound of the engine died out. Following Shiro’s lead, the squadron filed out of the aircraft one by one, treading carefully through the palace grounds.

Many of the buildings inside the Imperial Palace had more or less been demolished. Although Keith had already seen firsthand how severely the Robeasts had been slowly taking over the Earth, it appeared that others hadn’t. Lance and Hunk both gaped at the amount of destruction before them, wide-eyed and shocked.

They kept walking.

“Allura, did you happen to see what direction the Golden Pavilion is in?” Shiro asked, keeping his voice low.

“I believe it’s that way,” Allura replied, nodding towards the left.

“Alright, let’s—”

Shiro stopped. Keith thought he’d heard it too. A faint whirring of machines pulsating right below the surface.

Lance looked around, alarmed.

“What the f—”

“Duck!” Keith yelled as a Robeast lashed out from the right. Calling out his shoulder cannons, he shot it down before it could lay a single limb on Hunk or Lance.

“Holy shit,” Lance breathed.

“You alright?”

But even as Keith turned to check, more Robeasts appeared. All around them, aliens were bursting forth from the ground, crawling fast and buzzing angrily.

Rushing forward at once, Shiro swung his axe at the oncoming swarm, hacking and spinning out to meet each one. The rest of the team raised their rifles and fired, covering him with gunfire from behind.

“Remember!” Shiro shouted between swings, panting and out of breath. “Keith and I need to get to the Pavilion!”

A Robeast raised its limbs behind Shiro as he spoke. With a running start, Keith leapt in between them and sliced through its arm with one fell swoop. Lance, Hunk, Pidge, and Allura kept up a pace of rapid fire.

There were so many of them. Hundreds of Robeasts were appearing left and right, limbs extended and tentacles squirming, rushing at them like an intrusion of cockroaches. Shiro and Keith headed the front of line, continually hacking away at each alien that crossed their path. The others kept up a continual stream of bullets firing in all directions. Lance already had to reload his rifle.

“This is insane!” Lance yelled as he switched to his shoulder cannons. “I don’t know how long we can keep up!”

Hunk fired a shot from his rocket launcher. Pidge ducked and swerved while shooting nonstop. Allura threw a few well-aimed grenades. The ground shook as they hit their mark, blasting several aliens up and showering them all with dirt.

But it wasn’t enough. More kept coming, gliding and spinning around them until they were completely surrounded.

“There’s no way we’re going to get to the Pavilion at this rate!” Allura said.

Keith hated to admit that she was probably right. As skillful as he and Shiro had gotten over their many loops in the past, there were simply way too many Robeasts.

Turning around, Pidge shot down a Robeast with her rifle and slipped through the multitude.

“Where’re you going?” Lance shouted at her.

“I’ve got an idea!” she replied.

But nobody had time to check up on her. Allura, Hunk, and Lance fired round after round, Keith and Shiro continued to swing and chop, but no matter what they did, the amount of Robeasts never seemed to lessen.

Just then, the sound of the dropship engine roared and a blinding flash of white light flooded their senses.

“Pidge,” Lance whispered, looking back at the aircraft.

Everything seemed to slow as everyone including the Robeasts turned their attention to Pidge. Keith could hear a faint crackle from Lance’s helmet, and then her voice.

“Everyone move out of the way!” it sounded.

“Pidge,” Lance said. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Don’t do this, Pidge,” Hunk warned. “Think about what you’re doing, don’t you dare—”

But with a loud rev of the engine, the dropship moved forward and picked up speed, hurtling straight at them. The team dispersed, jumping out of Pidge’s path and taking cover as she sent a shower of bullets raining down on the Robeasts before her. Several aliens fell left and right in spite of their attempts to scatter out of the way.

“Pidge, watch out for that wall!” Lance cried out through his comms. Keith couldn’t hear if Pidge acknowledged it or not, but either way, she was doing nothing to slow down the dropship. Keeping up her speed, Pidge charged down the palace grounds, bulldozing over Robeasts that were too slow to escape her path.

“Pidge!” Lance yelled.

But it was no use. With a loud crash, the dropship careened into a temple building. Fire and smoke billowed from the point of contact and the rest of the team rushed over to the helm.

“Pidge!” Lance shouted again as he reached the ship opening. “You there?”

Coughing and spluttering, Pidge stumbled out of her seat at the helm and collapsed at their feet. Lance knelt down quickly by her side and dragged her by the shoulders until her head was resting in his lap.

“Are you okay?” Hunk and Shiro asked at the same time Lance yelled, “What were you thinking?!”

“If you guys can destroy the Emperor,” Pidge croaked through what sounded like lungs caving in inside her chest. “Then — it will all have been worth it.”

She coughed as Lance helped remove her helmet. Setting it aside, he held her closer in his arms.

“Come on,  _ Pidgista _ , you’re gonna make it,” he said, voice cracking.

“Go on without me,” she choked out. “Finish it, Shiro. For Matt. For my father.”

“Pidge, just stay on the ship,” Shiro suggested. “There’s still a chance we can get you help right after we—”

“Shiro?” she implored.

With a deep breath, Shiro bowed his head and nodded.

“I will,” Shiro promised.

“Pidge, don’t—”

Lance cut off as Pidge’s eyes fluttered shut.

“N-no,” he whispered. “ _ Pidge _ .”

The sound of whirring caught Keith’s ears again and he turned to look in the opposite direction of the hovercraft. The Robeasts were regrouping as more gathered together to join the remaining horde leftover from Pidge’s attack.

“Guys, we gotta keep moving,” Keith warned in a low voice. “They’re not gonna stop until they kill us all.”

Hunk and Allura gripped their guns tighter. Lance shut his eyes as he held onto Pidge for a few moments longer. When he opened them, his face was set and determined.

“Let’s do it,” he agreed.

Holding their weapons in tow, they climbed out of the dropship and made their way across the rubble towards the Pavilion. The earth was cracked and shaken up from Robeasts tunneling through them. Buildings were caving in, littering the palace grounds with debris. Like machines, the Robeasts spun out to greet them, twisting and flying at them from all directions. With his giant blaster, Hunk pumped out long, slow shots at the oncoming swarm while Lance fired at enemies at a distance. Allura kept an ongoing pace with her shoulder cannons. Keith and Shiro lunged and swung, sinking their axes into each passing alien.

“Up ahead!” Lance called out as the dim sliver of gold shimmered in the distance.

“Lance, look out!” Hunk cried. In the few seconds that Lance looked away from battle, a vine of tentacles sprung out from the ground beside him. Allura turned her gun on it at once but it was too late. The Robeast had sent a javelin shooting out from one of its vents and it pierced Lance straight in the chest.

“No!” Hunk bellowed. He finished off the Robeast he was fighting against with a blast of his gun and turned to run back to Lance.

“Hunk, no!” Keith shouted. “We’ve got to keep moving! There are too many of them!”

But he knew it was useless. Hunk wouldn’t listen and the Robeasts would never stop. He was running to his death.

They had to know what they were all signing up for.

“Sergeant, remember the goal!” Allura yelled. “Hunk and I can hold these guys off. You and Keith, keep going!”

“She’s right,” he heard Shiro say before a hand grabbed onto his arm and pulled him forward. Keith followed along, despite knowing that there was no way Hunk and Allura could hold off such a large amount of Robeasts for much longer. There was a slim chance of success, and even then, there was no guarantee any of them would make it out alive.

_ As long as he could save Shiro. _

Keith hacked and sliced at the oncoming fleet as he and Shiro made their way forward. As they got closer and closer to the lake, the number of Robeasts doubled.

They were now surrounded, right at the dead center of the clearing across the lake from the Golden Pavilion. Keith soon found himself back to back with Shiro, both axes raised and poised for battle, each axe covering the other’s back. When Shiro swung out, Keith ducked and sliced through the next Robeast, both revolving around the spot and dodging javelins.

Relentless and cruel as ever, the monsters showed them no mercy. Keith’s arms were aching all over but he tried not to think about it. Instead, he continued to lug his axe, sending it straight into each Robeast corpse he could hit.

Finally, taking three grenades from his back pouch, Shiro tossed them out in different directions. Before Keith could tell what had just happened, Shiro grabbed Keith by the arm and pulled him down to the ground with him.

_ Boom. _

Shutting his eyes against the light of the explosion, Keith curled into Shiro’s chest, which was pressing down upon Keith’s back as the Champion covered the both of them with his arms.

“Shiro?” he asked as he lifted his head, but Shiro shushed him. In the commotion of his last move, Shiro capitalized on the diversion he had created and dragged them both behind a bush. He was now peeking through the leaves at the aftermath of the grenades.

“There’s just a few more Robeasts out there guarding the way to the lake,” Shiro said. “But we can take ‘em.”

Keith let out a long exhale. “So this’ll all be over soon.”

They could do this. They could both make it out alive and perhaps see what would happen next. A confession, a date, — and Keith could hardly dare to believe it — a life beyond tomorrow.

It was there, just dangling in front of him at an arm’s reach away.

“Keith,” Shiro said, and as he turned to face him, something inside Keith’s stomach dropped. Shiro lifted the batch of grenades up and over his head and pressed it to Keith’s chest. As Keith looked down at it, then back up to Shiro, understanding began to settle.

“No,” he said at once. “Shiro, no. What are you doing? This was not what we had planned.”

“It’s going to be chaos out here,” Shiro replied. “You’re smaller and more compact. You can—”

“No!” Keith hissed, trying to keep his voice down.

“Listen, Keith—”

“No!” Keith repeated, refusing to hear another word of it. “You’re the one who ought to finish the Emperor off while I give you cover from behind. I won’t let you—”

“Keith, please.”

“Shiro, no—”

“You’ve got a more compact frame. You can worm your way through to the Emperor much more easily.”

“But Shiro—”

“It’s the best way,” he said. There was a ringing finality to his tone but Keith didn’t care.

“Shiro,” Keith said in a pleading voice, gripping tightly onto Shiro’s arms. “I — I can’t. I can’t let you die. Not on my watch. Not again. Not for forever.”

“This isn’t negotiable,” Shiro said. “It’s the best way.”

“Shiro, you know how it feels when someone you’ve grown to care for or love dies on your watch,” Keith pressed on. “If I go, at least you’ve only known me for a day. But if you go? I — I don’t want to — I… I can’t let you die.”

Sympathy filled the lines of Shiro’s face as he listened to Keith talk, and for a brief moment, Keith allowed himself to forget that Shiro had only just met him this morning.

“You say you cared about the Holts a lot,” Keith continued, keeping his eyes locked onto Shiro’s. “But as true as that is, it doesn’t compare with the way I feel about you.”

Shiro blinked, his eyes wide as he stared back at Keith.

“Keith, I — I’m sorry,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing. “I’m sorry things had to be this way. It’s—”

“Please,” Keith implored, fingers tightening their grip on Shiro’s arms. “Takashi.”

And it was this desperate utterance of his first name that seemed to break through the guarded look Shiro had in his eyes. Bringing his fingers up, Shiro cradled Keith’s face gently in the palm of his hands.

“Keith, listen,” he said. “I don’t think any of us are going to make it out of here alive—”

“But there’s a chance you can if you—”

“ _ Keith _ ,” Shiro repeated, more firmly this time. “We have to finish this now. It’s what we gave our lives for when we signed up for this war. You with me or not?”

Keith gazed up at the man he’d come to know so well, committing every line of his face to memory. He would carry this image as the last thing he saw before he died.

Picking up the strap of grenades with one hand, Keith nodded.

“I’m with you ‘til the end of the line.”

Unable to take his eyes off of Shiro, Keith continued to gaze up at him as Shiro’s thumb grazed over his cheek. Between the two of them, Keith knew that if anyone had the willpower to end the moment, it would be Shiro.

Yet, Shiro still hadn’t looked away.

“You’re a good man, Keith,” he said with a chuckle. Despite their imminent deaths, Keith felt that familiar lurch in his stomach at the sound of it. “I just wish I had the chance to get to know you better.”

And with that, Shiro leaned down and covered Keith’s mouth with his own. Before Keith could even register what he was doing, he was kissing Shiro back with all the fervor he could muster. Eyes shut and brows furrowed, he reached up to grip Shiro’s jaw, heart racing and mind pumping. There just wasn’t enough time. Robeasts surrounded them. Death was upon them. There wasn’t a second to spare for him to think about how long this moment would last. Only his lips against Shiro’s, his fingertips on his neck, his breath in his lungs — all of which reminded Keith that they were still very much alive.

And just as quickly as it had begun, it stopped.

Shiro pulled away, letting go of Keith at once. Looking down at the strap of grenades in Keith’s other hand, Shiro closed his fingers around it and squeezed.

“Good luck, Keith,” he whispered with a nod.

“See you on the other side,” Keith returned, with hope.

With one final look at the younger man, Shiro turned towards the Golden Temple and took a deep breath. Keith gripped onto the strap of grenades and readied himself. Fists tightening around his axe, Shiro opened his eyes and leapt.

Now in plain sight, he drew the attention of the Robeasts as he charged at them up ahead, leaving the path clear for Keith, who ducked out of the bushes and ran.

A Robeast turned to him at once, limbs extended and ready to strike. Keith slipped through its grasp easily, sliding across the dirt below its belly until he picked himself back up and continued sprinting towards the lake. He heard the sounds of struggle, a sudden cry of pain from Shiro, but he forced himself to keep going.

Because as much as he loved Shiro, he still had a greater mission to accomplish.

With a running jump, Keith launched himself off from the water’s edge and dove headfirst into the lake.

Everything slowed down as he broke the surface; the clinking of Shiro’s axe against the Robeasts’ limbs became muted. Keith could no longer hear how Shiro was doing, but he didn’t have time to think about it now. A dull purple glow reached him through the dark, murky waters. Keith swam closer, holding the grenades in tow.

Squinting through the lake, Keith finally saw it. A Robeast larger and more massive than he could have ever expected. Somehow, in real life, it looked more great and terrible than it had in his visions. Its body was bloated and pulsating, mouth open like a giant purple eye staring up at its prey. Vines of tentacles swayed with the water, drawing Keith closer and closer to its core.

This was it. He had made it. He had met the final beast.

Looping all five fingers through each safety pin, he prepared himself for the ultimate plunge.

Perhaps Shiro was right, he thought as he swam deeper and deeper towards the Emperor. Perhaps none of them would make it out of here alive and the world would have nothing but nameless heroes to thank when tomorrow came.

A sudden, sharp pain pierced him right through his stomach. Keith felt the flesh of his skin tear and all the muscles in his body tensing up. Looking down, he saw the tip of the Robeast’s tentacles sticking out under his ribs.

_ No, not yet. There’s still a job to finish. _

Whatever air was left inside his lungs was surely punctured. Blood was unfurling from him like red smoke through the muddy waters and he relinquished his grip on the grenades.

He watched as it sunk further and further down towards the Emperor beast’s mouth, all five safety pins in the palm of his hand. He could feel himself slowly fading, but damn it, he had to stay alive long enough to see the Emperor’s death.

It was strange to realize he could die again. The first time he had “died,” he had thought about his father, the orphanage, his mother. People and events that now felt like they were from a previous life, one that Keith was no longer quite attached to. This time, as he watched the bundle of grenades continue to sink lower towards the Emperor, the only thing on Keith’s mind was Shiro.

They were all dead, including Shiro, Keith was sure of it. There was no way they could’ve held out in the midst of so many Robeasts. Still, until the explosion happened, he needed to hang on for just… a little bit… longer…

The grenades landed somewhere at the corner of the Emperor’s mouth, setting the bombs off all at once. Keith could feel the impact like waves underwater, washing over him and shaking him through to the very core.

_ This is how it ends _ , Keith thought as he continued to float in a sea of red. There had to be more blood outside than inside of him. His brain felt flooded with water. Unable to breathe, the nerves in his entire body seemed to have shut down.

The last thing he saw through hazy vision was a taffeta of dark purple liquid unfurling all around him, seeping all over his skin… 

—

The first thing Keith heard was the muffled sound of classical music playing from above, crackling softly through the static.

Then he remembered he was drowning and couldn’t breathe. Eyes shooting open, he inhaled in a panicked frenzy only to find his lungs filling with musty air.

He coughed.

_ Where am I? _

His fingers ran along the fabric of something cushiony beneath him, taking in the rough feel of cotton. If this was how the afterlife began, he supposed it could’ve been worse. Hand slipping beneath the pillow, he came upon something cold and hard — the hilt of his dagger.

Keith pulled it out and sat up at once, but as he tried to do so, he fell out of bed in a tangle of blankets and bed sheets.

“What the f—”

“Keith, I’m trying to sleep,” came Hunk’s voice from across the room as laughter sounded in the air.

Keith looked up in alarm, confused by what was happening. Lance’s head appeared over his bunk, still sniggering.

“You woke up much earlier than I thought you would,” he said.

“Lance?” Keith blinked up at him. Maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him. “You’re alive?”

“Um… yeah?” Lance said, confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Uh…” Keith wasn’t sure how to explain. He had no idea what reality he had woken up in, but if Lance was alive…

Untangling himself from the sheets, he scrambled onto his feet and stared up at his bunkmate.

“What day is it today?” Keith demanded.

“Clearly not a good day for you,” Lance replied, giving Keith a dubious look.

Something stirred in Keith’s mind, a distant memory from what felt like ages ago.

“Did you just — did you tangle up my bed sheets in the middle of the night?” Keith asked.

“Alright, you got me,” Lance said, with his hands held up. “It was me. The look on your face when you fell out of bed was worth it though.”

It was the same prank Lance had done the day before the loop…

“What day is it?” Keith repeated, his voice rising. “When’s the invasion happening?”

“It’s Wednesday,” Lance replied. “But funny you should mention the invasion.”

“Why?” Keith asked. “When is it?”

“Well, it’s supposed to be in two days, but—”

_ Two days?! _

“—I just heard on the radio before you woke up that the entire race of the Robeasts seems to have been mysteriously wiped overnight. Their corpses are everywhere but not a single one of them is alive! So who knows? Maybe the invasion will be cancelled.”

“What?” Keith asked, hardly daring to believe his ears. “They’re… gone?”

“Apparently, unless the pretty-sounding lady on NHK was lying—”

“So let me get this straight,” Keith said, his mind whirling. “As of last night, there are no more Robeasts on the Earth?”

“I mean — I think so?” Lance said with a shrug. “There were pictures and everything. Corpses were found all over the Kyoto Imperial Palace.”

“Kyoto?”

Keith’s eyes widened.  _ Could it be? _

“What’s up with you, man?”

Keith turned to look at Pidge’s bunk. A mop of thatchy brown hair poked out from beneath the blankets, the mass of bedding rising up and down with her slow breathing.

If Pidge was alive, too, then…

_ Shiro. _

“I’ll fill you in later,” Keith said as he took off on a run. When he reached the door, he paused and looked back at Lance with a smile. “But if I’m not mistaken, we just defeated the Galran Robeasts.”

“What?” Lance called out after him as Keith bolted from the room. “Keith! Come back! You can’t just say something like that and leave without an explanation!”

But Keith was already out the door and sprinting away from the building.

He couldn’t be entirely sure what had happened, but somehow, the Robeasts had stayed dead while his bunkmates were alive and well, even though he had lost the power.

_ He had lost the power.  _ Yet here Keith was, alive, two days before the invasion on the beach. How was it possible? He would’ve needed quintessence from a live Druid, or a… or a…

_ The Emperor beast. _

Keith suddenly remembered it: dark purple liquid splaying out under water, mixing with his blood and seeping into his skin.

_ Well, _ something _ must’ve worked. _

Keith made a mental note to ask Coran later.

Stopping to catch his breath, Keith leaned a hand against the walls of the training building, clutching a stitch at his side. He had no idea what he would find when he walked in, but if there was even a chance — he had to try.

Once his heart rate slowed down enough for him breathe properly again, Keith straightened up and pushed the doors open.

As usual, several soldiers lined up along the courts before him in training gear, ready for combat. Keith walked in, his heart pounding inside his ears, making his way down towards the end of the room.

When he reached the third training court, his breath caught.

There in the center of the arena, surrounded by metal claws spinning and revolving around him, was none other than Takashi Shirogane. Shirtless and glistening with perspiration, he held himself in a solid planche position, the same, exact way Keith had always seen him.

Walking forward at once, Keith made his way towards him, easily avoiding the movement of the metal claws around them. The footsteps alerted Shiro, who lowered his legs until his feet touched the floor and, bending his knees, rolled his back up slowly into a seated position.

Keith stopped in front of him as Shiro pushed himself onto his feet and folded his arms over his chest.

"Who told you to come here?" Shiro asked. "If it's Iverson, he knows not to interrupt my morning sessions."

The familiarity of it all sent a jolt of electricity flowing down Keith’s spine, fizzling into excitable sparks inside his stomach. Just seeing Shiro up close and alive, Keith couldn’t help it; his face relaxed into a smile and a chuckle formed inside his throat.

“I’m Keith,” he said, staring up into Shiro’s eyes. “I had what you had. And together, we defeated the Robeasts. Tomorrow. In Kyoto.”

Shiro’s brows furrowed as he processed Keith’s words, his shrewd eyes surveying Keith’s face intently.

“I know it sounds crazy and it’s a lot to take in, but,” Keith took a deep breath and plowed on. “But if you’d like, I could catch you up on everything.”

“Everything,” Shiro repeated. “Really?”

“Really,” Keith affirmed. “Perhaps over some green tea?”

He watched as Shiro pursed his lip in thought, considering Keith through shrewd eyes. Refusing to back down, Keith gazed up at him with all the heat and intensity he always felt in Shiro’s presence. If there was always some sort of implicit understanding between them, there had to be something like it now.

After a few moments, Shiro gave a small tilt of his head and the corners of his mouth curved up into a small smile.

“You know, I think I’d like that.”

Keith’s heart soared.

“How does tomorrow sound?” Shiro asked.

_ Tomorrow. _

Keith thought he would never come to a place where he could fathom such a word again.

_ Tomorrow. _

He looked at Shiro, and for the first time since the loops had started, he felt real, genuine hope — hope for the future, hope for what was to come, hope for a time beyond a day he could now finally reach.

_ Tomorrow. _

The word rang foreign in his ears, but it had never echoed a sweeter or more beautiful tune than just now when it had tumbled out of Shiro’s mouth, casual but like a promise.

“Tomorrow?” he reflected back. Shiro nodded as a large grin spread across Keith’s face.

“Tomorrow sounds amazing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *BOWS* It's over!! I can't believe it. My first long (and multichap) fic!! I'm so thankful to those of you who've read to the end and stuck with me through this! I love you all so much and I really hope you all enjoyed it!! Keith and Shiro will live happily ever after to the ends of this AU. :)
> 
> Come say hello to me on tumblr [@flusteredkeith](https://flusteredkeith.tumblr.com)!
> 
> If you liked this work, check out some of my other recent works!
> 
> [come morning light](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11740683): a very short little soft, Sheith drabble I wrote to soothe my S3 wounds. I have to say it worked for me. I hope it'll work for you too~
> 
> [safe in your arms](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11668338): a short Sheith oneshot where Shiro sleepwalks and Keith comes find him
> 
> [discovering secrets](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11766804): a very small Zarkon/Honerva drabble I wrote after considering how they're like Beauty and the Beast in reverse. This is all fluff because, damn it, they were happy once, okay?
> 
> [the temperature's rising](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11422848): a short Sheith oneshot where Shiro and Keith get locked up in a closet after losing a drinking game.

**Author's Note:**

> It was such a wild ride to write and complete this Big Bang. It's my first time ever writing something this long so I really hope you guys enjoy it all! :)
> 
> Come say hello to me on tumblr [@flusteredkeith](https://flusteredkeith.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/flusteredkeith)!
> 
> Update: the one and only amazing [kcgane](http://kcgane.tumblr.com) composed [a beautiful and brilliant track](http://kcgane.tumblr.com/post/164875798666/read-flusteredkeiths-amazing-fic-tomorrow) for this fic and it deserves an Oscar ;__;
> 
> @midlangley did the accompanying art [here](http://midlangley.tumblr.com/post/163924048727/for-flusteredkeith-my-awesome-partner-for-the): 
> 
>  
> 
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> 


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